Wands a'Blazin'
by Rae Roberts
Summary: After the war, Remus Lupin and Severus Snape are shipped off to the American Olde West. Can they clear their names and escape this awful fate? A Harry Potter:Blazing Saddles crossover. Complete.
1. De Camptown Ladies

Disclaimer: The author does not claim ownership of any copyrighted material. The _Hogwarts School Song_ is from Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, chapter seven, page 128, written by J.K. Rowling. Used without permission._ The_ _Camptown Races_ was written by composer Stephen Foster. Used without permission. Quotes from the movie _Blazing Saddles_ are used without permission.

Racist, crude, and sexist statements and attitudes are those of the characters and are not shared by the author.

Rated PG-13 for crude frontier language and some mild sexual innuendo in chapter six. No slash occurs, although Remus Lupin and Severus Snape do form a highly unlikely friendship

——————

Wands a-Blazin' by Rae Roberts

**Chapter 1, De Camptown Ladies: **_In which Remus Lupin finds himself trapped in the American Olde West, and Draco Malfoy and "Slytherin Boy" are forced to don cowboy hats and play along in the roles of Taggart and Lyle. _

Remus Lupin wiped the sweat from his face with a dirty bandanna and rolled his aching shoulders. "Merlin's beard. It's hot."

Dean Thomas set his heavy sledge hammer aside and grinned at Remus. "Yeah, but at least it isn't raining. Remember, Remus? That's what you said when we left prison... 'At least out West, we'll see the sun again'."

Remus rolled his eyes and smiled at his former student, now a fellow lycanthrope and convict on the railroad work gang. "True, Dean, but I think I've seen enough of the sun to last a lifetime." He pulled his broad-brimmed hat lower over his eyes and hefted his pickaxe once more.

Just then the foreman and his gang rode up to the work site on horseback. "Come on, boys," shouted the former Death Eater. "The way you're lollygaggin' around here with them picks and them shovels, you'd think it was a hunnert an' twenty degrees." He laughed coarsely. "Can't be more than a hunnert an' fourteen."

The convicts did their best to simply ignore the foreman. Remus glanced up from under the brim of his hat, trying to remember the young man's name. He'd been a student at Hogwarts too, in Slytherin, back in the Old World. Back then, he'd been a nonentity, tagging along in the looming shadows of Crabbe and Goyle. Remus sighed. The lad's life might have turned out so differently, if not for Voldemort.

It was hard to maintain any sympathy for the nameless Slytherin when, just up the line, one of the centaur laborers collapsed from the heat. "Dock that damn mule a day's rations fer nappin' on th' job," the foreman chortled. Dean and some of the other werewolves dragged the once-proud creature into the sparse shade of a boulder. The other centaurs on the line hung their heads dejectedly. "Don't look so down, boys," the grinning foreman yelled. "Show some spirit. Sing one of them work songs like the nigra slaves used to do."

Dean and Remus exchanged a look of pure disgust. The gang of thugs on horseback was waiting expectantly for a song. Remus was struck with inspiration. "Hogwarts, Hogwarts, hoggy warty Hogwarts," he began in a hoarse baritone, "teach us something please..."

Dean frowned in concentration. "Hey, I kinda remember that song, only the tune went like this... 'Whether we be old and grey or young with scabby knees'," he joined in to a completely different tune. Other Hogwarts graduates began to sing along tentatively as vague memories of the old school song came back to them. The centaurs exchanged grins and drummed their hooves to the beat.

Remus smiled; sometimes he could still make his friends recall glimpses of their former lives. The group of convicts was in full swing, roaring out "teach us things worth knowing, Bring back what we've forgot, Just do your best, we'll do the rest, and learn until our brains all rot!"

"No, no, no, that's all wrong!" the foreman yelled, cutting through the din. "I wanna hear a song, a real song, you know, like," he paused for inspiration. "Like this! Swing low, sweet char-i-ah-ot," he sang in a surprisingly pleasant tenor.

The laborers feigned bewilderment. "Sweet cherry _what_?" asked Dean.

"You know, one o' them nigra spirituals," the Slytherin cried, "like, 'De Camptown Ladies'."

"De Camptown... Ladies?"

Clearly the ignorant convicts needed an example set for them. The foreman and his gang all struck up the tune, singing in exaggerated dialect as they stomped their feet and clapped their hands. "De Camptown Ladies sing dis song, doo-dah, doo-dah! De Camptown racetrack five mile long, oh, de doo-dah day!"

They were too busy with their impromptu minstrel show to notice Draco Malfoy ride up on his black stallion. "What in the wide, wide world of sports is a-goin' on here!" He pulled his gun out of his holster and began to pistol whip the hapless foreman. The singing came to a stop as the convicts clutched their sides with laughter. "I hired you people to get a little track laid, not jump around like a bunch o' Kansas City faggots!"

Remus had to stifle a laugh; the sight of the scion of the oh-so-aristocratic and pure-blooded Malfoy family dressed in a ten-gallon hat, bolo tie and cowhide chaps never failed to amuse him, even though it really wasn't the young man's fault. Like everyone else, he'd been forced to adapt to life in the New West.

The New West... It was an alternate dimension, a pocket of not-quite-reality that had been discovered shortly after the war that had decimated the wizarding world. The Ministry of Magic had claimed the space in the name of Great Britain and populated it with settlers eager to make new lives for themselves. Amnesty was offered to those who, like Draco and his father Lucius Malfoy, claimed to have been under the influence of the Imperius Curse during the war. The homesteaders of the New West had been promised an idyllic life of peace and prosperity, far from the sad memories of the Old World and the prying eyes of Muggles. Convicts such as the rag-tag band of werewolves, warlocks, centaurs and hags that Remus was part of, had been shipped off to the new dimension to provide cheap labor and to alleviate the crowding in Azkaban.

Remus wondered now if the new utopian society would have ever worked out as planned. The Ministry of Magic had no way of knowing that once the settlers arrived in the new dimension, the West would begin to exert its own subtle, insidious influence on them all. Within five years, none of the homesteaders remembered their former lives as citizens of modern-day wizarding Britain. Instead, they'd taken on the personalities—and prejudices—of American settlers, circa. 1874. All contact with the Old World had been cut off—for all Remus knew, wizarding Britain had forgotten the New West completely as well. For some reason he alone seemed to have been cursed with the memory of whom he'd been before... Remus Lupin, member of the Order of the Phoenix and trusted friend of both Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore. A werewolf, true, but one who was innocent of the atrocities he'd been accused of.

Meanwhile Draco informed the foreman of the reason for the interruption. "Surveyors say there might be quicksand up ahead."

"I'll send a couple men on horses to check it out," the foreman said eagerly.

Draco swung his pistol at the man. "You dummy! Horses? We cain't afford to lose no horses. Send a couple o' werewolfs."

"You heard the man," the foreman leered at Remus and Dean. "Get on a hand cart and go check the rails up ahead."

Remus ducked his head and pretended to be intimidated. "He asked for werewolves. Truth be told, sir, I'm not really a werewolf. I'm an Episcopalian."

"Shut up and get goin'!"

——————

Dean was still chuckling as the handcart rolled along the desert landscape. "Gwine to run all night, gwine to run all day," he sang in falsetto, mocking the foreman.

"At least the cart stirs up a breeze," Remus laughed and joined in, "Bet my money on de bobtail nag, somebody bet on de bay."

The two friends didn't notice their peril until the cart abruptly began to sink. "Hey, Remus, what isn't exactly water, and isn't exactly earth?"

"_Quicksand!_"

Alerted by the two men's cries for help, Malfoy rode up, followed closely by the nameless Slytherin, who showed more presence of mind than Remus would have thought to credit him with. He drew his wand from the leather holster at his belt and cried, "_Accio_ handcart!"

Remus and Dean watched in disbelief as the cart floated out of the quicksand to safety. "Dang, that was lucky," Malfoy said. "Doggone near lost a four hunnert galleon handcart!"

"Remus, they're going to leave us to die!" Dean cried.

"Stay calm, Dean," Remus said. "This is similar to being lured into a bog by a hinkypunk. Don't flail. Just lean back and try to float."

"Hinkypunk?" said Dean. "Remus, sometimes the things you say make no sense." Nevertheless, he did as he was told and soon rose to the surface.

"Good, now paddle—slowly—to the edge." With great difficulty, they managed to free themselves from the mire.

"I think we can re-route the track over there to the left, around that hill," said Draco, pointing. He glanced down to where the two exhausted and filthy werewolves lay at the edge of the pit of quicksand. "Break time's over, boys." He tossed them a shovel. "Don't just lay there, get up an' put that there shovel t' good use."

"Oh, I will," Remus said grimly. He grabbed the shovel and pulled himself up.

"Remus, don't do it!" Dean pleaded.

But Remus had taken all the abuse he could stand. "I have to."

Dean could only watch as he advanced on Draco, holding the shovel like a baseball bat.

Draco had his back to him, giving the foreman instructions. "Send an owl to the main office, and tell them that I said—" Remus struck him as hard as he could with the shovel. "_Ow!_" yelled Draco as he dropped to the ground.

Oblivious, the Slytherin flunky took down the message verbatim. "Send owl, main office, tell them you said, 'ow'. Gotcha."


	2. Potterville

Disclaimer: All of the funny lines are from the movie _Blazing Saddles_.

**Chapter 2, Potterville: **_In which Lucius Malfoy schemes in the role of Hedley Lamar, various Weasleys are molested by Draco and his gang, and Remus Lupin narrowly avoids the hangman's noose. _

Draco Malfoy leaned over the handsome oak desk in his father's tastefully decorated office, pointing to a map of the prairie. "See here, Paw, th' railroad's gonna hafta go right through the town of Potterville."

"Potterville," mused Lucius. "Splendid, splendid. That land is going to be worth millions of galleons, once the railroad goes through. Oh, if I could only get my hands on that gold!"

"Well, Paw, I was thinkin'—"

"Be silent, Draco, whilst I come up with a plan." Malfoy looked at his rustic, uncouth son with distaste and wondered for the thousandth time if he really was the father. Narcissa had always denied any infidelity, even under _veritaserum_, but Lucius still had his doubts. He turned away and shuddered delicately as Draco spat a stream of tobacco juice in the general direction of the brass spittoon in the corner. He missed by a good eighteen inches, staining the rug with slimy brown goo.

"You got yerself a plan yet, Paw?"

"My mind is a-glow with whirling transient nodes of thought, careening through a cosmic vapor of invention," Lucius assured him.

"Ditto!" Draco said.

"Ditto? You provincial putz... Wait, wait, I have a plan. There's only one thing standing between me and that land: the rightful owners. Draco, we have to drive every last man, woman,and child out of Potterville."

"I know, Paw," Draco said eagerly. "We kill the firstborn male child of every family."

Malfoy considered for a moment, then dismissed the idea. "No... Too Jewish."

"Okay, okay, me an' th' boys will work up a number six on 'em!"

"A number six? I'm not familiar with that one, Draco."

Draco's pale eyes lit up as he launched into his description. "That's where we come ridin' into town, a-whampin' and a-whompin' everyone in sight t' within an inch of their lives!"

"Splendid!" Lucius enthused. He grabbed hold of Draco's bandaged head. "Perhaps you are my son, after all." Draco shrieked in pain. "Why, son, you're injured. What happened?"

"Oh Paw, that uppity werewolf Remus Lupin done clocked me on the haid wit' a shovel," Draco whined. "I got him locked up downstairs. It would sure mean a lot to me if you'd hang him by the neck until he's dead."

"Certainly, my boy, certainly."

Lucius crossed to the window. He looked down on a courtyard where a gallows was set up. The former Death Eater Macnair, dressed in his customary black executioner's hood, was just putting the noose around the neck of a short, elderly man. The man's violet top hat was knocked off by the noose and Macnair returned it to him with profuse apologies.

"Oh, no trouble, no trouble at all, sir," squeaked the condemned. He bowed and the top hat promptly fell off again.

"Macnair," Lucius called.

"Yes, sir?"

"I've got a special for you; when can you fit him in?"

Macnair considered, wringing his hands. "I couldn't possibly stretch his neck before Monday, sir. I've got two men out with the flu." He indicated the long line of prisoners lined up behind Dedalus Diggle, sullenly waiting for their own appointments with the gallows. "As you can see, sir, we're swamped."

"Monday it is, then." Lucius waved Draco away. "All taken care of, son."

——————

Across the desert, the red-haired residents of the peaceful frontier town of Potterville, unaware of the impending whampin' and whompin', went about their business. Over at the little whitewashed country church, the Reverend Percy Weasley worked on his Sunday sermon and worried that he hadn't quite managed to achieve the proper ratio of fire to brimstone. In the one-room red schoolhouse, schoolmarm Penelope Clearwater taught the town's children their three R's. Bill Weasley slipped out the side door of the bank and sidled across the street to the saloon run by his twin brothers Fred and George. He would stop in for a little nip of gillywater before getting back to work. Behind the counter in the mercantile, Arthur Weasley measured out a pound of coffee for Arabella Figg. At the desk in the corner, his wife Molly balanced the books and complained about the credit he'd extended to Mundungus Fletcher.

Down the street at the newspaper office, a bored Ginny Weasley typed up an editorial about corruption in Governor Dolores Umbridge's administration; an editorial she knew she'd never publish. In the back room, the Creevey brothers played an endless game of Exploding Snap. It was a slow day for news.

Ginny looked up from her typewriter as the low thunder of hoofbeats sounded along the road leading into town. "Dennis, Colin, get out here! Looks like a big crowd of desperadoes is aimin' to shoot up the town!"

Sure enough, by the time the brothers had raced to the window, Draco Malfoy and his band of cutthroats were shooting and stampeding through Potterville like nobody's business. Ginny screamed and flung up a shield charm just in time as gunfire shattered the window. All across town, the Weasleys and their friends were under attack.

Draco chortled with glee as he used a reductor curse to blow up the town's pride and joy, a two-seater outhouse. Sturgis Podmore and Elphias Doge bolted for cover, their trousers around their ankles. Across the street at the saloon, rockets screamed through the air as Fred and George, barricaded behind the bar, repulsed the wave of invaders with Weasleys' Wildfire Whiz-bangs.

Two desperadoes had cornered Arabella Figg and were punching and kicking her viciously. "Have you ever seen such cruelty?" she cried out to no one in particular. Molly Weasley rolled up her sleeves and waded into the fray to rescue the elderly squib with a couple of well-aimed bat-bogey hexes. Then, like a swarm of locusts, Malfoy's gang was gone as swiftly as they'd arrived.

——————

The town council of Potterville met in the church, it being one of the few buildings that hadn't had all of its windows shot or hexed out. Percy Weasley, in his black suit and white cleric's collar, stood at the pulpit and led his flock in a timeless hymn of faith.

"It's time to come to a decision. Are we to stay or up and quit?" the congregation sang. "There's no avoiding this conclusion; our town is turning into shit."

"A-men," Percy intoned. "Now, I don't have to tell you good folks what has been happening here in our beloved little town: sheriff murdered, crops burned, stores looted, people stampeded, and cattle raped. The time has come to act, and to act quickly... I'm leaving!"

Mundungus Fletcher, disreputable as ever in stained and greasy denim overalls over a red flannel union suit, leaped to his feet and waved his floppy felt prospector's hat in the air. "Now listen here, you pious prairie pissant, nobody's goin' nowhere," he roared. "Colsarnit, I was born here, an' I was raised here, and dad gum it, I'm a-gonna die here, an' no sidewindin', bushwackin', hornswagglin' cracker-croaker is gonna ruin my biscuit cutter!"

Arthur Weasley stood up and applauded. "We all owe Mundungus our thanks for saying what needed to be said," he cried. "And I'm glad these dear children were here to witness Dung's speech. Not only was it authentic frontier gibberish, but those words showed a courage that is seldom seen in this day and age. What have we become?" he chastised to the congregation. "Our fathers made their way across the prairie. They fought for this land. Fought Indians, fought locusts, fought drought! Are we gonna just give up without a fight?"

"Hoo-ah," Mundungus shouted incoherently from his seat on the amen pew.

"Arthur Weasley is right," said Sturgis Podmore. "I say we stay and fight for our town."

"Hoo-ah!"

"Sturgis is right about Dad being right," George Weasley agreed. "I'm not about to give up my saloon—that my brother and I conjured with our own two wands— not for nothin' or nobody!"

"Hoo-ah!"

"George is right!" Fred Weasley shouted.

"Reverend?" challenged Mundungus Fletcher.

"Oh, all right," Percy said resentfully. "But, if we're going to stay... And I for one think it's a _big_ mistake... We're going to need a new sheriff." He looked over the packed church. "Well? Which one of you boys is it gonna be?"

"Why should we risk one of our own?" George piped up. "I say we owl the governor. Ask her to send us a sheriff!"

Fred jumped to his feet. "George is right," he cried. "We'll send an owl to the governor and demand a new sheriff!"

"Let us all rise and pray for the swift deliverance of our new sheriff," Percy intoned. "I will now read from the books of Matthew, Mark, Luke—" The stained glass windows shattered as a hail of dungbombs were hurled into the church. "—and DUCK!" Percy concluded.

——————

Lucius Malfoy was in a foul mood. He scowled at the piece of pink parchment on his desk; the note had just arrived by owl from Governor Umbridge, instructing him to select a new sheriff for the town of Potterville.

"A sheriff means law and order—the very last things I want to encourage!" Malfoy rested his sleek platinum-blond head in his hands for a moment. A calculating gleam appeared in his eyes as he finally raised his head. "But wait, perhaps I can turn this situation to my advantage," he pondered. "Yes... What if I were to appoint a sheriff so objectionable, so vile, that his very appearance offends the good citizens of Potterville so much that they pack up and leave town?" Malfoy frowned. "Splendid... But where would I find such a man?"

The dull thunk of the gallows trapdoor interrupted the elder Malfoy's musings. He stepped over to the window just in time to see the werewolf Remus Lupin led up the gallows steps. Macnair placed the noose around his neck. Looking down at the shabbily dressed, greying wizard, Malfoy began to laugh maniacally. "Yes, yes, perfect!" he cried. "Potterville will be a ghost town in no time!"


	3. They Are Soooo Dumb

Disclaimer: All of the funny lines are from the movie _Blazing Saddles_.

**Chapter 3, They Are Soooo Dumb: **_In which our favorite werewolf receives a less-than-hearty welcome from his former friends._

Remus Lupin's head was spinning. Not an hour ago, he'd been standing on a crude frontier gallows, the rough hemp rope of the hangman's noose around his neck. Now he was riding a magnificent Abraxan stallion across the desert, en route to Potterville, where, unbelievably, he'd been appointed the new sheriff by none other than Lucius Malfoy.

"Unbelievable is the word for it," Remus murmured to himself. There was no doubt that the senior Malfoy had plans of his own that he, Remus, knew nothing about—plans that could easily get him killed. Remus chuckled and reined the Abraxan to a halt under the shade of some creosote bushes. He wasn't about to ride into Potterville without a cunning plan of his own!

—————

Meanwhile, the Potterville town council—comprised of six Weasleys and a Podmore—had worked feverishly to organize a rousing welcome for the new sheriff. Bill Weasley put the finishing touches on a huge banner while his mother Molly arranged red, white, and blue bunting on the rail of the hastily-conjured reviewing stand. A tiny Elf owl fluttered down and landed on his sister Ginny's shoulder. She pulled off the miniature scroll attached to its leg and read it excitedly. "The new sheriff should be arriving any minute now!"

"Strike up the band," Arthur shouted. Tiny Filius Flitwick complied, climbing onto his podium and directing with his wand. The band labored heroically to produce something that sounded vaguely like a military march, if one had tin ears and didn't use them to listen too closely. Fred and George, who'd been pressed into service as musicians at the last minute, grimaced and conjured scarlet earmuffs to match their band uniforms.

"Dung, do you see anything?" Arthur called up to Mundungus Fletcher, who was perched atop the tallest building in town.

The old prospector pulled out a pair of omnioculars and peered through them into the distance. "I see dust, dad gum it," he hollered. "It must be the sheriff!"

"Ring out the church bells!" Percy cried. The clanging of the bell joined the din of Sturgis Podmore on sousaphone, Fleur Delacour-Weasley on clarinet, the Weasley twins on kazoo and whoopee cushion, and Elphias Doge on the triangle.

—————

Coming down the trail into town, Remus could faintly hear the church bell chiming, along with... "What is that? A colony of flatulent prairie dogs?" he asked the horse, who snorted in response. "Well, whatever it is, it looks like the entire town has turned out to welcome us."

Remus squared his shoulders and checked the stiff, new leather belt around his waist one last time. One holster held a shiny Colt 45 pistol, the other held his wand. Lucius Malfoy himself had returned the wand to him along with a pardon for the crimes Remus had allegedly committed. Moments later, the stunned werewolf had been appointed sheriff of Potterville. Malfoy had proceeded to pin a silver star to Remus' new buckskin shirt. "At least I look the part," Remus chuckled.

Down in town, Mundungus Fletcher adjusted the omnioculars to maximum distance and recognized Remus Lupin's greying hair and scarred face. "The new sheriff is a were—" he shrieked, the final syllable drowned out by an especially enthusiastic blat from Podmore's sousaphone.

"What did he say?" asked Molly.

Arthur replied confidently. "He said, 'The new sheriff is near.'"

Mundungus was hopping up and down in consternation. "No, conflabbit! Dagnabbit, I _said_, the new sheriff is a trai—" The sound of the old church bell overpowered his words again.

"What?" yelled Molly.

"The new sheriff is a-comin' down the trail," Ginny shrieked above the din.

Now he was on the outskirts of town. Penelope Clearwater screamed as she caught sight of Remus' face. The townsfolk craned their necks to see what the fuss was about. George recognized Remus next and swallowed his kazoo. Fred pounded his choking, sputtering twin on the back as the rest of the band fell silent in shock, except for Sturgis Podmore, who was still oom-pah-pahing valiantly.

Atop the reviewing stand, acutely aware of his duties as the leading citizen of the village, Arthur Weasley was adjusting his spectacles and consulting his notes. "As chairman of the welcoming committee," he read, "it is my privilege to extend the hand of friendship to our new town..." Arthur looked up from his notes and met Remus' eyes. "...Traitor!" he said.

"_Finite incantatum_," whispered Bill and the banner flashing 'Welcome, Sheriff' in red and gold winked out with a soft fizzle.

Fred elbowed Podmore in the ribs and the sousaphone solo ended with a wheeze.

Remus smiled pleasantly at the stunned citizens and dismounted from his horse. As he swung down from the saddle, he slipped his wand under the saddle blanket. "Stay close, boy," he whispered, "and remember the plan." The Abraxan whickered softly.

Heart pounding, Remus climbed the steps to join Arthur and Molly on the reviewing platform. He didn't feel much better than he had climbing the steps to the gallows that morning. The wizarding war had been especially hard on the Weasleys. Their sons Charlie and Ron had both died, the victims of attacks by renegade werewolves in Voldemort's service. It was still hard for Remus to accept that the Weasleys could blame him for the loss of Ron and Charlie, but they had made no attempt to defend him, or even visit, once he'd been sentenced to life in Azkaban.

Looking around at the dumbfounded faces of his former friends, Remus dared to hope that time might have healed some of their wounds. He was here to help; they would have to accept him... Wouldn't they? He pulled out the official document signed by the governor herself. "By the power vested in me by the," Remus nearly choked on the next word, "_honorable_ governor Dolores Jane Umbridge—"

The sound of wands being drawn and pistols cocked interrupted him. Remus glanced up. Every single person in the town of Potterville had a weapon pointed directly at him. Even Arabella Figg was aiming a tiny derringer at his heart. Remus gulped and let the parchment drop from his fingers. It was time for the cunning plan. "_Incipere incantatum,_" he murmured, activating the doppleganger spell he'd prepared before riding into town. It had been a long time since he'd cast any magic at all. Remus could only hope the complicated illusion would work as planned.

The crowd gasped as a second Remus Lupin suddenly materialized in their midst. This Lupin was scruffy and disreputable, sporting several days growth of greying beard stubble and wearing the dirty and tattered uniform of a convict laborer. The doppleganger rushed up the stairs to Remus' side with the unmistakable drumming of hooves.

This was the only flaw in Remus' plan; the illusion that had turned his horse into his twin was limited to appearance only. If the doppleganger tried to speak, a horse's whinny was all that would be heard. "One false move and the werewolf gets it!" Remus spoke hoarsely out of the side of his mouth, trying hard not to move his lips. He'd listened to ventriloquists on the Wizarding Wireless Network as a child, but he didn't have much confidence in his own ability to throw his voice.

Fortunately the Weasleys seemed to be taken in by the trick. The doppleganger had his wand pressed to the side of Remus' head. "I mean it," Remus warned, "Unless you want to see this werewolf's head blown all over this town, drop the weapons!" One by one, the townsfolk put down their wands and guns, until only Bill was aiming his pistol at Remus' heart.

"Do as he says, Bill," cried Arthur Weasley. "The werewolf is crazy enough to go through with it!"

Reluctantly, Bill let his gun drop to the ground. Remus eased down off the reviewing stand, pulling the disguised horse after him. To the assembled townsfolk, it looked as though the doppleganger was pushing Remus along, wand still aimed at his skull.

"Isn't anyone going to help that poor man?" Molly pleaded.

"Shh, Ma, that's a sure way to get him killed," whispered George.

"Don't try to follow me, or the traitor dies," growled Remus out of the corner of his mouth. "Do as he says," he screamed a moment later. "Do as he says, or lordy, he'll kill me!" Remus rolled his eyes in terror, risking a glance at the crowd who now stood, horrified and helpless to aid him. "Shut up, werewolf!" Remus ordered himself. He pulled the horse after him into a nearby alley while the Weasleys looked on.

—————

Five minutes later, Remus had made his way through back alleys to the sheriff's office. "_Finite incantatum_," he breathed. The doppleganger disappeared, turning back into the faithful horse he'd ridden into town. "Thanks, boy, I couldn't have done it without you." After making sure the Abraxan was comfortable in the small stable, Remus went inside, locked the office door, and leaned against it gratefully. "Man," he whispered to himself. "You are so clever... And they are _soooooo_ stupid!"

—————

In the town square, Ginny Weasley raised her chin defiantly. "I'm going to write a letter to Governor Umbridge right away," she said, "and let her know exactly what we think of this new sheriff!"


	4. Fastest Hands in the West

Disclaimer: All of the funny lines are from _Blazing Saddles_.

**Chapter 4, Fastest Hands in the West: **_In which Severus Snape makes his appearance in a most unlikely role—that of the washed-up gunslinger._

Remus spent most of the afternoon barricaded in the sheriff's office. Being conscientious and tidy by nature, he'd done his best to clean the place up and take care of the unfinished paperwork left by his deceased predecessor. He was just hanging up a wanted poster for some hippogriff poachers when the squeal of iron grating against stone signaled some sort of activity behind the prison bars. "Sounds like the drunk in number two is awake," Remus said to himself. He went to investigate. A black-clad man was hanging awkwardly, dangling upside-down from the top bunk. Greasy curtains of lank black hair fell back from a thin, sallow face. Remus tilted his head for a better look. "Severus Snape," he breathed. Even inverted, there was no mistaking that beak of a nose. Snape groaned. "Are we awake?" Remus asked wryly.

Snape turned toward the sound of his voice. Bloodshot black eyes focused on Remus with difficulty. "We're not entirely certain," Snape finally replied. "Are we a foul, traitorous creature of Darkness?"

Remus shrugged. "Why yes, we are."

"Then we are awake... But we are very puzzled."

Taking pity on the man, Remus unlocked the cell and managed to disentangle him from the bunk and get him more or less into a seated position leaning against the stone wall. The stale, sweet odor of firewhiskey reeked from every pore. "Can I get you something to eat?" Remus asked.

Snape waved a hand arrogantly. "I don't eat. Food is utterly wasted on me." He groped along the bench and produced a bottle of cheap firewhiskey. Snape threw back his head and drank, adam's apple bobbing rhythmically in his scrawny neck as he drained half the bottle.

Remus was appalled. This was certainly not the strictly controlled—and controlling—man he remembered from the Old World. "Snape," he chided, "a man that drinks like that, and doesn't eat, is going to _die_!"

The cavernous eyes that turned to meet his were as cold and unfeeling as ever, but the voice held a plaintive note as Snape responded, "When?"

Long moments passed in awkward silence. Finally Remus summoned a cheerful smile. "Well, Snape, since you are my guest, and I am your host, what can I do for you? What's your pleasure?"

Snape seemed taken aback at the show of kindness. "My current incarnation is somewhat limiting," he finally drawled. "I do occasionally enjoy... A game of chess? A good, hard shag?"

"Chess," said Remus decisively.

——————

"Checkmate," Remus said forty-five minutes later.

"What?" Snape blinked blearily until the game board came into focus. "Checkmate? Really?" Remus nodded. Snape shrugged. He leaned back tipsily in his chair and took a long pull on yet another bottle of firewhiskey.

He'd never felt any great affection for Snape,but it saddened Remus to see the once formidable Potions Master brought so low. "What happened, after the war, Snape? Why did you decide to settle in the West?"

"I'm sure that topic is of no interest to you."

"Oh, but it is, it is."

Snape chuckled dryly. "If you must pry..."

"I must, I must." Remus smiled in encouragement. It seemed to him that although he would never admit it, Snape was desperate for human contact—even contact with a human tainted by the curse of lycanthropy.

The cold, dark eyes met his, suddenly clear. "I had few options, Lupin. Without Albus Dumbledore to confirm that I really was on the side of all that is good and pure and right..." His voice trailed off. Snape gave Remus a resentful look and took another swallow of whiskey before continuing. "Well, at that point, having my name cleared would have been of little use to me, actually. I would have been back in society's good graces, but to what purpose? The Ministry would have given me the Order of Merlin... Posthumously. Because, you see, without Albus Dumbledore's protection, once my role as a spy was revealed, the Dark Lord's remaining followers would have hunted me to the ends of the earth." He sighed. "It seemed the best course of action was to pretend to be one of the penitent Death Eaters and take the amnesty the Ministry offered to those willing to settle the West. Upon arrival in this benighted dimension, subjected to the same bizarre effects as everyone else, I found myself turned into an unwilling avatar of the American Old West."

The explanation only made Remus more curious about his unusual guest. "And your avatar was..." he prompted.

The black eyes suddenly gleamed. "You may have heard of me," Snape said, sitting up a little straighter in his chair. "In this dimension, I was known as the Honeydukes Kid."

Remus shook his head. The poor man really was delusional after all. "No," he said gently. "The Honeydukes Kid had the fastest hands in the West!"

"In the _world_," Snape corrected with his customary arrogance.

"We're both too old for schoolboy pranks, Snape. You are not the Honeydukes Kid."

"Ah, but I am, or rather, was." Snape pushed up out of his chair and assumed a gunfighter's stance several steps back from the table. He pointed at the game board, indicating the king Remus had just taken. "Put your hands on either side of that chess piece." Bemused, Remus complied. "When I say 'go', try to stop me from grabbing it."

"It's no contest," Remus told him. "You're standing three feet away!"

Snape's eyes gleamed again. "Just prepare yourself for my signal." Snape flexed his fingers, watching Remus intently. Remus tensed, his hands poised around the little carved wooden king. "Go!"

Remus snatched the king off the board. He sat back, trying without much success to hide his smile of satisfaction. As a side effect of his lycanthropy, his reflexes were exceptionally quick. By comparison, Snape seemed to have barely moved.

"Recognize this?"

Shocked, Remus watched Snape pull the chess piece from the empty holster at his hip. Surely it was a trick, some sleight of hand—perhaps Snape had somehow conjured an identical king? Remus opened his own hands and gawked at his empty palms. "You really are the Kid," he breathed.

Snape waved a graceful, long-fingered hand dismissively. "It no longer matters. Two years ago, perhaps, I could have shown you something truly impressive. But no longer." With a sneer of contempt, he held his right hand out. "Just look at this."

"Steady as a rock," Remus said.

"Indeed. But I shoot with _this_ hand." He slumped back into his chair and held his left hand out for inspection. It trembled so violently his entire arm spasmed. "I believe Muggles refer to my affliction as post-traumatic stress disorder," he said in his soft, cold voice. "As my fame as a gunslinger grew, every two-bit punk who wanted to make a name for himself would ride into town, seeking to challenge the Honeydukes Kid. It reached the point where I heard the word 'draw' in my sleep. One day, a thought occurred to me—'I've killed more men than the Dark Lord himself!' All my memories of my former life came flooding back."

"And it drove you to... To this?" Remus indicated the nearly-empty bottle.

Snape gave a soft, bitter laugh. "The final straw came one day when I heard a voice say, 'Reach for it, mister.' I spun around, and found myself face to face with... A child. A six-year-old boy." Snape shook his head. "I just threw down my guns and walked away... Little bastard shot me right in the ass!"

Recovering his cultured British accent, Snape concluded, "I limped to the nearest saloon, crawled inside a bottle of firewhiskey, and have been there ever since."

Remus tried to think of something tactful to say in reply, but Snape cut him off. "That's all ancient history now. Tell me, Lupin, how did a cultured urbanite such as yourself end up in this rustic setting?"

Remus smiled. "If you really must pry..."

"Oh, I must, I must."

"Well I'm sure you already know the basic details," Remus said. "By the end of the war, Voldemort had recruited werewolves to his side in droves. It mustn't have been too difficult, with the Ministry's policies taking away even the few rights we lycanthropes had to begin with..." Remus put those bitter thoughts aside. "I was rounded up and sent to Azkaban with all the other werewolves, guilty and innocent alike," he continued. "From that point, I imagine my situation was remarkably similar to yours. With Albus dead and Harry..." Remus' voice faltered. The last news he'd heard of Harry Potter, he'd still been confined to a locked ward in St. Mungo's, his mind broken. Had Harry ever recovered? Remus collected his thoughts and went on, "Well, with Harry injured, there was no one left to plead my case. When the Ministry opened up the New West as a penal colony, I decided that forced labor out in the fresh air was preferable to rotting away in a cell in Azkaban... So here I am. Fascinating story, isn't it?"

A rumbling snore from Snape was his only reply. Remus shook his head ruefully. "I always like to keep my audience riveted," he chuckled.


	5. Candygrams and Old Wounds

Disclaimer: All of the funny lines are from _Blazing Saddles_.

**Chapter 5, Candygrams and Old Wounds: **_In which Draco plots revenge, the residents of Potterville try to adjust to their new sheriff, and the dubious fate of Crabbe and Goyle is revealed._

Draco Malfoy was in an extremely foul mood. Or, as he himself would express it in his current Olde Western incarnation...

"I'm plumb pissed off," Draco snarled to no one in particular. For a brief moment, he wished his old school pals Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle were there for him to abuse. He always felt better after screaming insults at good ol' Crabbe and Goyle. Lyle was a poor substitute. Draco spat tobacco juice and the scowl twisting his thin, pale features deepened; the brown stream had missed the spittoon by at least two feet. "Dammit, dammit, dammit," he raged. Draco strode out of his tent, shouting, "Lyle!" He would just have to make do with the railroad foreman.

"Over here, Mister Malfoy, sir," called Lyle. He and the rest of Draco's band of thugs were lounging around a campfire, enjoying a meal of biscuits and baked beans.

Draco paused, his pale grey eyes narrowed in confusion. Those noises... "What in tarnation is that? A pond full o' bullfrogs?" he muttered. Draco shook his head. "There ain't no ponds in the desert, you dummy," he chastised himself. The wind changed direction and the true meaning of the croaking, tooting and warbling sounds became clear. "Sweet mother o' pearl," the younger Malfoy cried, hastily pulling his ten-gallon hat off his head and fanning the air.

"More beans, boss?"

"Dagnabbit, Lyle, I think you done had more than enough! Now listen here, you remember that werewolf that clocked me upside the head? The one my Paw was a-gonna have strung up?"

Lyle nodded eagerly. "That uppity werewolf what don't know how to sing worth crap," he agreed. "I reckon he's good and dead by now, huh?"

Draco grabbed the plate of beans from the hapless flunky's hands and dumped it over his head. "No, you idiot, he ain't dead. He's the new sheriff of Potterville! Now what am I gonna do to get back at that lousy, low-down, no-good son of a—"

"I know boss, I know!" Lyle wiped baked beans out of his eyes and hopped from foot to foot with excitement. "You can sic Mongo on him!"

Draco's disgruntled expression changed to one of pure glee. "Oh, Lyle, that's just too cruel. Why, Mongo would tear that puny little sheriff into itty bitty pieces... I love it!"

——————

Morning found Remus Lupin ready to go out and win over the residents of Potterville. He adjusted his wand holster a little lower on his belt, buffed his star-shaped sheriff's badge to a bright shine, and headed for the door.

Snape, whose attention had seemingly been occupied by shaving with a straight razor, looked up from his reflection in the small shaving mirror. "Do yourself a favor, Lupin. Don't go out there."

Snape's voice was as cold and sneering as ever, but Remus thought he detected a hint of concern. He shook his head ruefully, sure he was letting his imagination get the better of him. "I have to go, Snape. I'm the sheriff. I swore an oath to protect these people. Besides, I know they'll come around, eventually."

The gunslinger shrugged. "Suit yourself." He went back to his shaving and Remus sallied forth.

Crossing Main Street, he met Arabella Figg. The elderly squib was wearing a poke bonnet and carrying a shopping bag. Remus tipped his hat to her and smiled disarmingly. "Mornin', ma'am," he said. "Lovely day, isn't it?"

Mrs. Figg gave him a withering glare. "Up yours, werewolf."

——————

Draco approached the cave with caution. The ground around the entrance was littered with gnawed and broken bones bones of cattle. Cattle, and... It was probably better not to dwell on it. "Mongo... Mongo, remember me? It's yer old friend, Draco Malfoy."

Lyle and the others cringed back as Mongo shuffled out, blinking his small, dull, deepset eyes in the bright sunlight.

"Dang, I forgot what a big mother he is," Lyle breathed. Mongo was a giant, easily twice as tall as the average man.

The monster shambled forward, the knuckles of his fists dragging along the ground. His shaggy head swung curiously toward the sound of Draco's voice. "Dra-co?"

"That's right, Mongo, it's me, Draco." He spoke as though the giant were a toddler. "Does Mongo wanna have hisself some fun? Mongo wanna smash somebody for Draco?"

Mongo's face split into a fearsome, toothy grin. He rubbed his huge, meaty hands together and tugged impatiently on the chains that secured him to the rocks of the cave. "Mongo smash. Mongo _smash!_"

——————

It was mid-afternoon. The new sheriff of Potterville had been sitting silently, staring at the wall, since his return from patrol that morning. It was plain that he'd had minimal success in winning over the Weasleys and their friends. Snape wrinkled his nose; judging by the lingering odor, the werewolf had been pelted with stink pellets. "The Weasley twins being the probable perpetrators," Snape muttered to himself. He sighed; he'd been hoping that Lupin would snap out of this funk on his own. Reluctantly, he pulled up a chair next to the despondent man and waved his wand. "_Scourgify_," he muttered. "Pull yourself together, Lupin. You've faced far worse than a few stink pellets and illiterate insults."

Remus continued to stare straight ahead, his expression stony. Snape's words barely registered. He'd pushed aside the hurt when his friends had deserted him, had made excuses for them during the long weeks he'd spent locked up in Azkaban. They were grieving for the dead... Nursing Harry back to health... Any day, he'd get word that they believed in his innocence, that they were preparing his defense. Even after it became clear that no one from the Order of the Phoenix had ever made the slightest attempt to clear his name, Remus continued the denial. The New West had made them all forget, that was what it was.

This morning, it had become painfully obvious that none of them had forgotten him. They all believed that he was a traitor. A murderer. They hated him. Remus retreated inside himself and just sat, staring blindly at the wall.

Watching the unresponsive man, Snape felt his patience beginning to slip. "What did you expect?" he sneered. "'Welcome back, friend'? 'We forgive you for killing our sons, our brothers'?"

It was exactly what Remus had been hoping for. Anger at Snape for pointing out his foolishness roused Remus from his lethargy. "I didn't kill anyone," he gritted. "You know I would never have—"

"'Come on in, make yourself at home'," Snape continued relentlessly. "'Marry my daughter.'"

Remus hung his head. "You were right, Snape," he admitted. "I can't win them over. You don't have to rub it in."

Snape shook his head impatiently. Once, he would have enjoyed seeing the werewolf in pain, but no longer. He'd begun to feel an odd sort of kinship with the man, since waking up in the jail cell and finding out there was someone else who remembered life before the New West. At any rate, it had been his intention to cheer Lupin up, not make him more depressed. Clearly, his efforts so far had failed, and Severus Snape had had enough of failure.

The cold black eyes regarded Lupin for a long moment. His usual bullying tactics weren't working. Slowly, with great reluctance, Snape reached out and laid a hand on Lupin's shoulder. When the friendly gesture wasn't rebuffed, he spoke again. "You've got to remember," he said gently, "it isn't just the old war wounds that are affecting the Weasleys. The New West has influenced them all, don't you see? They've absorbed the morals and mores of the time, adapted to the new roles that have been laid out for them."

Lupin seemed to perk up a bit. Emboldened, Snape patted his shoulder, a trifle awkwardly. "The Weasleys are just simple farmers now," he continued. "You have to understand, these are people of the land. The common clay of the New West. You know, Lupin. . . Complete and utter morons."

Remus threw back his head and laughed. "Thanks, Snape," he said finally.

Snape had jerked his hand away and retreated behind the deputy's desk. "I simply couldn't abide watching you wallow in self-pity any longer, Lupin," he sneered. Remus just grinned.

——————

Ginny Weasley was the first to notice the monster riding into town on a two-headed, fire-breathing Brahma bull. She shrieked out a warning. "It's Mongo!"

Soon the peaceful, bucolic setting was disturbed by the sounds of wood and glass being smashed into smithereens and the terrified screams of men and cattle. Remus peered out the window of the sheriff's office. "What's going on now?"

Snape shrugged. "It's none of your concern, is it, Lupin? The good citizens of Potterville have made it plain that they don't want your help."

"True enough." Remus echoed Snape's shrug and turned away from the window. He felt uncomfortable and a little guilty ignoring the chaos in the streets, but Snape was right. It was none of his concern.

Ten minutes later, Fred Weasley—or perhaps his twin George, Remus could never be entirely sure which was which—slammed through the door in a panic. "Sheriff, Sheriff, Mongo's bustin' up the town! Ya gotta help us, Sheriff! _Please!_"

Remus gave him a long, level look. George—or possibly Fred—was dressed in a high-collared shirt in the typical style of the late eighteen-hundreds. His long sleeves were rolled up and held in place with arm garters. A white apron covered his clothes; he must have come from working in the saloon. The Weasley twin's eyes were wild with fear, his face pale beneath its freckles.

Oh, please, is it, now?" Remus drawled. "Listen to that, Kid. This morning these folks wouldn't give me the time of day, and now, they're begging for my help."

"Sheriff, for the love of God! It's _Mongo_!"

"Oh, all right," Remus said, relenting. It was always nice to be needed.

Fred—or George—stuck his head out the door and shouted, "The fool's—" With a guilty glance at Remus, he hastily rephrased his message. "The sheriff's gonna do it! He's gonna take on Mongo!" The saloon-keeper rushed off.

Remus shook his head ruefully. "Who is this Mongo character, anyway?"

From behind the deputy's desk, Snape replied. "The question isn't who... Mongo is more of a what."

"A what?"

"Before the Final Battle, the creature now known as Mongo went by the names of Crabbe and Goyle," Snape elaborated. "You might remember them from their school days at Hogwarts? They were both in Slytherin House... strapping young lads, fine athletes—"

"You don't mean those two hulking brutes that were always tagging after Draco Malfoy?"

Snape scowled at the unflattering description; Remus remembered, belatedly, that he'd always favored students from his own House. "The very same, Lupin. Young Masters Crabbe and Goyle happened to get in the way of a hex cast at young Malfoy," Snape went on after a moment. "A particularly nasty hex. It would have killed Draco. Goyle and Crabbe survived, but they were... Well, I suppose fused is the proper term for it."

Remus swallowed. "You mean..."

Snape nodded. "Twice as tall," he said, "twice as broad... And twice as thick," he added in an undertone.

"I don't suppose you'd be willing to lend a hand?" Remus said without much hope. He already suspected what the answer would be. Snape didn't disappoint him.

Propping his feet up on the desk, the former head of Slytherin House smirked at him. "As we already agreed, Lupin, Potterville's problems are not my problem. Ah, no, don't do that," he cautioned as Remus began to buckle on his gun belt. "If you shoot him, you'll only make him mad."

——————

Remus peeked cautiously around the door of the saloon. Mongo was inside, gleefully crushing an even dozen of the patrons between the player piano and the wall. The only person who seemed to be putting up any resistance at all was a buxom young woman hiding behind the bar. Whenever the monster's attention was distracted, she would levitate a bottle over his head and smash it with the _reductor_ curse. Being hit repeatedly on top of the skull didn't seem to be acting as a deterrent, unfortunately. On the contrary, it looked as though Mongo was enjoying having alcohol dumped over his head.

Up close, Remus could make out the individual features of the unfortunate Slytherins. Mongo retained Crabbe's pudding bowl haircut and Goyle's unibrow over dull, deepset eyes. Both boys had shared the hulking size and long, gorilla-like arms even before they'd been magically fused. Remus retreated for a moment. Gryffindor though he might be, there was no way he was going to walk into the saloon without a plan to defeat the giant.

——————

"Candygram for Mongo! Candygram for Mongo!" Remus had transfigured his sheriff's clothes into a telegram delivery boy's uniform. He walked boldly up to the monster and repeated loudly, "Candygram for Mongo!"

Mongo left off smushing the saloon patrons and blinked stupidly at the large red box in Remus' hands. "Huh?"

Remus resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Candygram for Mongo. Sign here, please."

Mongo scribbled something illegible across the receipt Remus held out for him, then took the red box eagerly. It was wrapped with a wide gold ribbon tied in a large bow and was emitting faint wisps of smoke. Remus turned smartly and exited the building. As he reached the sidewalk, he stuffed his fingers in his ears.

"Mongo like can-dy," the monster said, struggling to untie the bow. _Boom! _He keeled over unconscious as the oversized Howler blew up in his face.

Behind the bar, the buxom young saloon girl clutched her sides, laughing.

——————

"More bubbles, Narcissa!" Lucius Malfoy had retired to his bathroom as soon as Draco had relayed the news of Mongo's failure.

"What in tarnation are we gonna do about that damn uppity werewolf, Paw?" Draco stood at the head of the tub, pulling on rubber gloves. "Any thoughts?"

"My mind is a raging torrent, flooded with rivulets of thought, cascading into a waterfall of creative alternatives," Lucius assured his son.

"Gol-darnit, Paw, you use your tongue purtier than a twenny-galleon wh—"

"Ah-ah-ah, language, Draco," Lucius cautioned. Narcissa was seated at the foot of the tub, giving her husband a pedicure. She gave Draco a scowl of disapproval.

"Sorry, Maw," Draco muttered sheepishly. He picked up a bottle of peroxide in his gloved hand and proceeded to touch up Lucius' dark roots.

Lucius massaged his forehead, deep in thought. "I know, I know," he crowed. "The Beast has failed. It's time to send in... the Beauty! Splendid, splendid," the senior Malfoy went on. "She's never failed me."

Draco frowned. "You don't mean Mimi von Karkaroff, do you? She ain't no beauty, Paw. Why she's just a stuck-up, mouthy little mud—"

"Language, Draco!" Lucius glared up at his son, but Narcissa, busy with her nail file, hadn't seemed to notice Draco's faux pas. "It's a perfect plan, son. Mimi will destroy the sheriff, and then... Potterville will be mine! Mine! Mine!"

Lucius suddenly stopped in mid-rant and looked around, panicked. "Where's my snakey? Where's my snakey!"

Draco and his mother scrambled to locate the rubber snake. "Here it is, Paw," Draco panted.

Lucius grabbed the toy from his hands. "Thank Merlin! That was a close one," he breathed, clutching it to his chest. "Daddy loves snakey," he whispered. The elder Malfoy held the rubber toy up to his ear. "Does snakey love daddy?" he asked, squeaking it. The answer must have satisfied Lucius, because he leaned back in the tub and closed his eyes, calm once more.

Draco and Narcissa exchanged a worried look. "You see, Sweetheart?" said Narcissa. "Mommy always warned you. Casting too many Unforgivables... The same thing happened to your Auntie Bellatrix." She sighed. "One minute, you're at the top of your form, and the next... A raving loony."

"Don't you worry none, Maw," Draco reassured her. "You know I prefer whompin' over hexin' any day!"

——————

That evening, there was a knock at the door to the sheriff's office. Remus cautiously opened it to find Arabella Figg holding an apple pie. "I just wanted to thank you for your bravery and ingenuity in standing up to that monster," the old woman quavered. "Oh, and sorry about the 'up yours werewolf'."

"Apology accepted," Remus smiled.

"Of course, you'll have the good taste not to mention this to anyone," Mrs. Figg added.

"Of course not," Remus assured her wryly. She slipped away into the gathering darkness and Remus shut the door. "I'm rapidly becoming a big underground sensation in this town," he told Snape.

Snape smirked. "In another twenty-five years, you'll be able to shake their hands in public." As Remus set the pie down on his desk, Snape tossed him his fringed buckskin jacket. "Come along, I don't wish to be late for the show."

Snape was wearing his black hat and coat, Remus saw. His belt was slung around his hips, wand in one holster, a gun in the other. Remus had returned Snape's wand earlier; as far as he was concerned, the gunslinger was free to go at any time. Considering all the trouble the little village of Potterville had been experiencing lately, Snape hadn't turned down the loan of a pistol when Remus had offered.

"Where are we going in such a hurry?" Remus asked, pleased to be invited along.

"Mimi von Karkaroff is performing at the saloon tonight," Snape replied. His dark eyes gleamed. "You definitely won't want to miss it."


	6. Hanky Panky

Disclaimer: All of the funny lines are from _Blazing Saddles_.

**Chapter 6, Hanky Panky:** _In which a fanon-compliant Hermione tackles the role of Lili Von Sthupp, Snape finds himself the object of a barmaid's affections, and Dobby serves up sausage._

Remus and Snape took seats at a table in the back of the crowded saloon. Fred and George Weasley were both on duty behind the bar. The twins' expressions weren't exactly friendly, but since Remus had saved the town from Mongo, they could hardly refuse to serve him.

The spunky barmaid Remus had seen earlier sashayed over to their table, her hips swaying. Remus and Snape both gulped. Her tight red dress showed off an abundance of shapely curves. Her hair was piled high on her head, spilling down in ringlets to frame her face. She smiled at the dumbfounded males and licked her lips seductively. The effect was spoiled when she tripped over a patron's booted feet and stumbled headlong into Snape. "Hello there, cowboy," she purred, recovering her aplomb quickly. "What's your pleasure?"

"Two beers," Remus said. The barmaid gave him a hard look. "I asked him that same question in chapter four," he stammered, "and I don't think a lady would appreciate the answer."

"But I ain't no lady, Sheriff," she replied, then broke into a warm smile. "No hard feelin's. The name's Belle." She turned back to Snape. "And you would be?"

Remus suspected that Snape was going to be his usual antisocial self, so he risked answering for him again. "Miss Belle, please allow me to introduce you to the Honeydukes Kid."

"You're pullin' my lariat," she scoffed. "The Honeydukes Kid had the fastest—"

Snape appeared to shift slightly in his seat. A split second later, Belle's clothes were noticeably disheveled. "—hands in the West," she concluded with a gasp. "Dang, I never been felt up so quick," she said, hastily adjusting her garments. "Or so whole-hog thorough!" Instead of being insulted, she seemed duly impressed. With a wink at Snape, Belle hurried off to the bar to fetch their beer.

Mindful of his duties as sheriff, Remus scanned the crowd, alert for trouble. Snape lounged back in his chair, sipping his beer and looking smug. He leaned forward in anticipation as the Weasley twins took to the stage.

"Witches and Gentlewizards, it gives my brother Fred and I great pleasure to announce..."

"One of the finest talents ever to tread the boards..." chimed in Fred.

"Our very own Bohemian Rhapsody, the one, the only..."

"Mimi von Karkaroff!" they concluded in unison.

The packed house applauded thunderously as the twins levitated the red velvet curtain. A woman stood in the center of the stage holding an immense ostrich-plume fan which concealed her from the top of her head to her silk-skirted knees. As the piano player struck up a lively burlesque tune, she lowered the fan and started to sing in a throaty contralto.

Remus spewed beer across the table. "It's Hermione Granger!"

"Miss Granger, or should I say, Ms Karkaroff, goes by her ex-husband's name now," Snape informed him with a gleam in his eyes.

"Karkaroff?" Remus choked, "She married Igor Karkaroff? He was old enough to be her father!"

"We're both old enough to be her father," Snape corrected. "Karkaroff was old enough to be her _grandfather_."

"And he was a Death Eater," Remus said morosely. The audience cheered wildly and he glanced back at the stage. Hermione had discarded the ostrich-feather fan, along with the comparatively modest ankle-length skirt she'd been wearing. Remus put his head in his hands.

"Igor has had a successful career here in the New West, selling patent medicines. Snake oil," Snape said. "Fitting, don't you think?"

"She was the cleverest witch of her age I'd ever met," Remus groaned. "What happened to her?" He risked another look at the stage. Hermione had certainly... He shied away from the phrase 'filled out' and quickly substituted 'grown up'. Yes, she'd definitely grown up considerably since the last time he'd seen her. She'd be, what, twenty-three or twenty-four by now? He had to admit, it took talent to sing like that, while simultaneously producing showers of bubbles from her wand, and, and... Remus groaned again and buried his face in his hands as the crowd registered riotous approval. Hermione was now topless.

"Lupin, I never took you for a prude," Snape chided.

Remus turned his chair so his back was to the stage and scowled at Snape. "She was one of our _students_," he hissed. "Just _obliviate_ me, would you please? Erase this whole sorry episode from my mind. That poor girl, forced to assume the avatar of an Old West burlesque queen..."

"Save your pity for someone who deserves it. Miss Granger took to the role of Mimi von Karkaroff like a dugbog to water." Snape's attention was distracted by the stage show. "Ah," he breathed. "The things that woman can do with a wand..."

Remus let out another groan as the crowd cheered and stamped their feet. Somehow he doubted that a few colored bubbles would get that kind of reaction from Snape. "Ron's death must have been very hard for her," he suggested. It must have unhinged her completely, he added to himself.

"Ron? Who, Ronald Weasley?" Snape sounded dubious. "I suppose... Weasley was one of her boyfriends at Hogwarts, wasn't he?"

"_One_ of her boyfriends?" Remus sputtered.

"When she wasn't busy with Wood or Jordan or Krum... or Weasley's twin brothers..." Snape hid a grin behind his mug of beer. He'd been wrong; it was still rather enjoyable to inflict pain upon Lupin. "Or famous Harry Potter himself, or young Malfoy," he continued his recitation.

"_Draco Malfoy!_"

"Oh, I'm sorry, Lupin, I didn't mean to imply that Draco was the only one. No, Lucius too, during her senior year, I believe... And before that there was that brief fling with Sirius Black, and—"

"I need a breath of fresh air," Remus said weakly. Shielding his eyes from the stage, he fled the room.

——————

The show was concluding with a final, patriotic number before Remus had recovered sufficiently to return to his seat. With horrified fascination, he watched as Mimi von Karkaroff—in fringed pasties, four-inch heels, and G-string—led a chorus line of high-kicking, flag-waving House Elves in a stirring rendition of _God Bless America_.

Remus turned to see Snape's reaction. To his surprise, Belle had joined Snape at the table. In fact, she was sitting in his lap. Snape didn't seem to mind her invasion of his personal space. On the contrary, the normally surly gunslinger appeared to be thoroughly enjoying the female attention. "Why don't you two get a room?" Remus said.

"We were just waiting to deliver this message," Snape replied smoothly. He tossed a parchment envelope across the table.

"Who's it from?" Snape and Belle both shrugged. Remus examined the envelope. The letters S-P-E-W had been embossed into the wax seal. He opened it and read aloud:

_Dear Sheriff, _

_I must see you in my dressing room immediately after the show. _

_Very truly yours, _

_Mimi von Karkaroff_

Snape spewed his beer across the table.

——————

A star had been conjured upon the door along with the name _Mimi von Karkaroff _in gold letters. Remus knocked softly.

"Wilkommen, bienvenue, welcome... Come on in."

He complied, relieved to see that Hermione was more or less modestly dressed in a silky black robe adorned with marabou feathers. "Please, sit down," she offered. "Make yourself at home."

Remus perched nervously on the edge of the sofa. Hermione immediately left her chair and came to sit beside him. He swallowed hard; closer proximity revealed that the fabric of her robe was extremely sheer. It left only a little to the imagination, and after seeing his former student on stage, Remus found that his imagination was now working overtime.

"Did you enjoy the show tonight, Sheriff?"

"Er... It was very... interesting," was all he could manage.

"Interesting?" Hermione seemed disappointed.

"You have a lot of talent," Remus added hurriedly. It was true. She showed nearly as much talent for the stage as she had for her academic studies.

"Thank you."

There was an awkward silence. Finally, Hermione rose to her feet. "I hope you don't mind if I slip into something a little more comfortable?"

"Please do." She disappeared behind a large dressing screen. Remus harbored the hope that she'd realized how unsuitable he was as a romantic partner and would put on something less revealing. There was a brief swish of fabric and Hermione instantly reappeared. Remus nearly choked. Surely such tiny scraps of lace couldn't really qualify as clothing!

"Oh, it's so very bright in here, isn't it? _Nox!_" Every lamp in the room was instantly extinguished, leaving them in nearly total darkness.

Remus was relieved; at least now she couldn't see him blushing. "Hermione," he began when she sat down beside him again.

"Please, call me Mimi." Her voice was husky, her warm breath tickling his ear.

"Hermione," Remus persisted. "I know you don't recall, but we've met before—"

"Yes, Remus, I know. At Hogwarts," she said briskly.

"You remember! That's wonderful! That makes three of us. I met up with Severus Snape recently and—"

"We can discuss plans for the class reunion later, Remus." Her voice had regained its seductive tone. In the dark, her hands were busy with the buttons of Remus' shirt. "Tell me," she murmured, "is it true what they say about lycanthropes? The way you people are... gifted?"

"I really don't think we should—"

"Oh, it's true," she gasped. "It's true, it's true!"

"Er, Hermione?"

"Mimi," she interrupted impatiently. "Call me Mimi... It's true," she repeated rapturously. "So long, so hard, so... So _slender_?"

"Mimi, that's my wand."

"Oh!" She giggled. "So it is..." Her hands began to roam again.

Remus was rapidly discovering that Hermione possessed other talents that he had never been aware of before. He made one last effort, even though he'd obviously arrived on the scene years too late to save Hermione's virtue. "Hermione, I was your professor!"

"But you aren't any longer, are you? Please, memories of my former life are painful for me. I really was quite fond of Ron... and Harry... and dear, dear Albus."

Remus groaned. "Not Dumbledore too!"

Hermione's voice was very soft. "Please, Remus, just... Hold me. Love me. The man I remember would never refuse a request from a lady, now would he?"

"It's true," said Remus.

——————

Dobby's immense tennis-ball eyes shone with hero-worship as he levitated the cover off a silver platter of sausages. "Brave Sheriff Lupin! Does brave Sheriff Lupin want another schnitzengrüben?"

"No, thank you," Remus replied, a bit desperately. "Fifteen is my limit on schnitzengrüben."

Hermione leaned across the breakfast table to whisper in his ear. "Then how about a little..."

"Baby,_ please_! I may be a werewolf, but believe me, I'm only human. Besides," Remus told her, "I have to go. Duty calls..."

"Listen to me, Remus." Hermione's voice took on the bossy tone he remembered from her schoolgirl days. "I didn't want to mention it last night and spoil the mood, but Lucius Malfoy hired me to seduce you. I was supposed to slip a love potion into your drink, then abandon you and break your heart."

"Thank you for telling me," Remus said dryly. "And here I thought you just couldn't resist my charms."

"Oh, I never went along with Malfoy's scheme," Hermione said briskly, "fond as I am of the old goat. I've had a crush on you ever since third year," she admitted. "Ever since I found out you were a... But that's not important right now," she said hastily. "What is important is that Lucius is determined to ruin you."

"I did rather notice that," he admitted with a grin. "But do you know why? Besides the obvious," he added.

"Not yet, Remus, but when I find out, I'll be sure to let you know." She blew him a kiss as he opened the door to leave. "Oh, and Remus? Say hello to Severus for me... You know, I was always so very fond of him."

Remus groaned.


	7. Pawns, Potions, and Badges

Disclaimer: All of the funny lines are from _Blazing Saddles_. Lupin and Snape's opening lines and Hermione's song line are from Lili Von Shtupp's song in the movie.

**Chapter 7: Pawns, Potions, and Badges: **_In which Mongo declares his devotion, Remus regains a former ally, and a monkey wrench is tossed into Snape and Belle's romance._

Remus opened the door to the sheriff's office, wondering whether Severus Snape would still be in residence. The black-clad gunslinger was reclining in the deputy's chair with his booted feet propped up on the desk. "How was your—ah—appointment with Ms Karkaroff?" he asked.

"Unbelievable," Remus said truthfully. He considered the sheriff's chair for a moment, rejected it, and instead collapsed across the desk with his long legs dangling. "Merlin's beard, I'm... so... tired."

Snape chuckled. "Sick and tired of love," he quoted.

"I've had my fill of love," Remus admitted.

"From below and above?"

"That's enough, Snape. This is supposed to be rated PG-13," Remus warned.

Snape tossed a parchment across the space between the desks. It landed on Remus' chest. "That arrived by owl this morning. It's a writ for Mongo's release."

Remus sat up and examined the document. "Signed by Lucius Malfoy himself," he said with a sigh. "Well, it's legal." He staggered across the office to the prison cells, where a snoring Mongo hung from the bars. "A hand, please, Snape?"

"If I must."

Remus hid a smile as he noted that Snape was also a little unsteady on his feet this morning. The Honeydukes Kid's clothes were uncharacteristically rumpled, as if they'd spent the night on the floor in an untidy heap, and there were lipstick stains on his collar.

"_Finite incantatum_," the two wizards chanted in unison. It had taken binding spells from both of them to secure the hulking giant to the prison bars.

"Wake up, Mongo," Remus called. The monster yawned and stretched, popping off the remaining heavy iron chains as if they were made of paper. He blinked small, deepset eyes sleepily at Remus. "You're free to go, Mongo," Remus told him.

"No!" Mongo shook his shaggy head. "Mongo not leave! Mongo like She-riff. She-riff only man to ever whup Mongo," he explained. Before Remus could react, Mongo lunged forward and grabbed him in a bear hug. "Mongo develop strong feelings for She-riff!"

"_Ulp_," Remus gasped. The giant's enthusiastic embrace was crushing his ribs.

"Ah, careful, Lupin," Snape grinned. "Looks like Ms Karkaroff isn't the only one who's smitten. Mongo seems to have taken a fancy to you as well."

"Uh-uh, no," the giant corrected him, setting Remus back on his feet. "Mongo straight."

Snape traced his mouth with one long, sallow finger, pondering for a moment before asking, "Why did Lucius Malfoy send you to wreak havoc upon Potterville, Mongo?"

The monster gave Snape a blank look. "Lu-cy?"

With a pained expression, the former head of Slytherin tried again, enunciating clearly. "Why did Lucy send Mongo to smash Potterville?"

"Mongo not know." His brow furrowed in thought. "Got somethin' to do with... Where the choo-choo go."

Remus and Snape exchanged a quizzical look. "Why would Lucius Malfoy care 'where the choo-choo go'?" Remus asked. Snape shrugged.

Mongo echoed the gesture. "Mongo not know. Mongo only pawn in game of life."

"Maybe some of the old gang back at the railroad have heard something. Come along, Snape, a bit of fresh air will do you good."

——————

It didn't take long to retrieve an Abraxan for the Honeydukes Kid from the stables. Soon the flying horses were touching down along the railway where the convict gang was hard at work. The group of werewolves, centaurs, hags and warlocks dropped their picks and shovels and ran over when they recognized Remus.

Dean Thomas was the first to reach them. The young lycanthrope was thrilled to see his friend still alive. "They said you were hung!" he cried.

Remus couldn't resist the set-up. "And they were right," he said smugly.

Snape rolled his eyes. The convict gang gathered around to hear the story of Remus' escape from the gallows. After the excitement had died down a bit, he asked about Lucius Malfoy's interest in the little town of Potterville.

"Remember that quicksand we discovered?" Dean asked. Remus nodded. That was how this entire adventure had begun! "The railroad line had to be diverted," Dean explained. "The railway is going to go right through Potterville."

"That property will be worth a great deal of gold as a result," Snape pointed out.

"No wonder Malfoy wants to get rid of the Weasleys! If he can claim ownership, he'll stand to make millions," Remus exclaimed. "He's not the type to give up easily. I wonder what he'll try next?"

Snape was just about to reply when Draco and Lyle and the rest of their gang rode up. "Now if that don't beat all," Draco said, disgusted. "Here we take the time an' trouble t' run off the Muggles an' the half-bloods and the freaks, and for what? So we can take a nice town full o' innocent witches and wizards and appoint a mudblood sheriff what's a werewolf to boot! I _am_ depressed."

"Excuse me, Draco, sir, but I sure do hate to see you like this," said Lyle. "What if me and the boys was to shoot that there werewolf dead? Would that pep you up?"

Draco smiled nastily. "That might help."

Lyle gestured to the rest of the gang. Six guns were drawn.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." Snape's voice was very soft. He hadn't moved in his saddle.

"Aw, don't worry about that ol' alcoholic," Lyle sneered. "He couldn't hit the broad side of a barn."

Snape's eyes gleamed. He flexed his fingers, an almost imperceptible gesture.

Lyle and his five flunkies aimed their guns at Remus. Remus could feel himself tensing. He kept his eyes on Snape. Suddenly, Lyle made a move. Before anyone could react, six shots rang out, followed by six soft thuds as the gang's guns hit the desert sand. The thugs cried out in shock. Although Snape hadn't appeared to even move, he'd shot the pistols right out of the cowpokes' hands.

Draco's jaw dropped and he stared at Snape as though seeing him for the first time. His already pale face went several shades paler. "P-professor Snape?"

"Well, don't just sit there looking stupid, grasping your hands in pain," Remus said. "How about a little applause for the Honeydukes Kid?"

The crowd of convicts burst into applause and cheers. Draco's gang joined them reluctantly. Remus glanced over at Snape, expecting to see a smirk or a least some sign of satisfaction. Instead, the gunslinger was frowning, apparently lost in thought.

——————

As soon as the werewolf sheriff was out of sight, Draco apparated to Lucius Malfoy's office to report on Severus Snape's defection to the side of goodness, purity, and right. "Paw! Colsarnit, Paw, you ain't a-gonna believe who's turned traitor now..."

A loud laugh interupted his diatribe against Snape. Draco whirled around and saw Mimi von Karkaroff, securely tied to a chair. "What's that little mudblood doin' here?"

Hermione spat in his face. Draco snarled and spit back. He missed by at least two feet.

"Ms Karkaroff has developed an unhealthy interest in where the choo-choo go," Lucius said.

Draco looked blank. "Huh?"

"The railroad line through Potterville," Lucius snapped impatiently. "Ms Karkaroff not only failed to seduce Lupin as ordered, it now seems that she is actively spying on his behalf."

"Your nefarious scheme will never succeed. You'll never beat Remus Lupin," Hermione told Lucius. "Why, he's twice the man you are!" She began to sing, "I've been with thousands of men, again and again—"

Lucius slapped her. "Shut up, you bushy-haired twit, whilst I think of an appropriate punishment for your betrayal."

"Let me help, Paw," Draco leered, "I can think of a couple o' things myself..."

"Neither one of you are going to do anything," Hermione said. "Get 'em, boys!"

The song had apparently been a signal. Dobby and a brigade of House Elves dressed in knitted hats, scarves, and flashing S.P.E.W. badges suddenly appeared in the room. Two of the little creatures rushed to untie Hermione while the rest darted about like Cornish Pixies, hurling books and knick-knacks at the Malfoys.

"Don't let her get away," shrieked Lucius.

Dobby upended the spittoon over Draco's head as he lunged at Mimi, who promptly disapparated. Unable to stop his forward momentum, Draco charged headfirst into the fireplace with a resounding clang. The House Elves snapped their fingers and disappeared in little puffs of colored smoke.

"This is worse than I thought," Lucius muttered to himself as Draco stumbled around the office, drenched in slimy brown tobacco juice, trying to dislodge the dented spittoon from his head. "Whatever am I to do?"

Draco finally managed to pop the spittoon off his head and jumped up and down eagerly,. "Let me an' the gang help, Paw!"

"No, no, your pathetic little gang won't do at all," mused the senior Malfoy. "What I need is an army!" His pale eyes glowed brightly. "Yes, splendid! Draco, I want you to round up every criminal and desperado in the West. Write this down... I want rustlers, hustlers, cutthroats, bounty hunters, nitwits, halfwits, dimwits..." Draco rummaged around the desk looking for a pen and parchment. "Vipers, snipers, con-men, Indian agents, Mexican bandits," Lucius went on with manic glee as Draco continued his futile search. "Muggers, Muggle-buggerers, bushwhackers, hornswogglars, horse thieves, bull-dykes, train robbers, bank robbers, ass-kickers, shit-kickers, and Death Eaters!" he concluded triumphantly.

Draco emerged from under the desk with a bedraggled feather quill and a paper napkin. "Um, could you repeat that, Paw?"

——————

Remus and Snape returned to find Potterville in an uproar. Everyone seemed to be packing hastily, preparing to evacuate. They reined in at the saloon, where Fred and George Weasley were levitating barrels of butterbeer into a wagon. "What's going on?" Remus demanded. "You can't just give up and leave!"

"Oh yes we can," George—or Fred—said. The red-head paused just long enough to thrust a piece of parchment into Remus' hands.

Remus unrolled it and read out loud:

_Wanted!_

_Cutthroats, Murderers and Desperadoes_

_to destroy the town of Potterville_

_Criminal record required_

_Serious applicants only_

_see Lucius Malfoy_

_an Equal Opportunity employer _

"Can't you see that this is just the last act of a desperate man?" Remus asked, grabbing Fred—or George—by the arm to get him to stop loading the wagon.

The twin shook him off. "We don't care if it's the first act of Henry the Fifth," he said.

His brother joined in, "We're leaving!"

Remus raised his voice so everyone on Main Street could hear. "Please," he said, "just give me twenty-four hours to come up with a plan to save the town."

Arthur Weasley started to shake his head, but Ginny stepped forward. "He defeated Mongo," she reminded her friends and neighbors. "Let's give him a chance."

"All right, sheriff," said Bill. "You've got twenty-four hours."

——————

Remus paced back and forth in the sheriff's office, deep in thought. He'd asked the residents of Potterville for twenty-four hours but the truth was he didn't even have that much time. This latest burden was the last thing he needed. Right now he had his own problems to worry about!

"The full moon is tomorrow night," Snape pointed out.

"I know, I know," Remus snapped impatiently. "You needn't worry. I'll just lock myself in one of the cells. That is, if the jail is still standing by then."

"Is that how all of the infected convicts are dealt with?" Snape asked, "They are locked up to endure the transformation?"

Remus stopped his pacing. "Yes, Snape. Remember, as far as anyone else in the New West is concerned, it's the year 1874. The wolfsbane potion hasn't been invented yet."

Snape didn't say anything else for several long moments. Remus was about to resume his pacing when Snape spoke again. "I should have no difficulty in brewing sufficient quantities of the potion for you and your lycanthropic friends," he said. "The ingredients are not uncommon."

"You would do that... For me?" Remus was dumbfounded.

"I do it for my own safety and for that of the general populace," Snape retorted coldly.

Just then a light knock sounded at the door. When Remus opened it an elderly woman slipped into the building, tripping on the threshold. Remus caught her and helped her regain her balance.

"Thanks, sonny."

She wore a conservative, high-necked dress and carried a large purse. A little purple hat was perched jauntily on her tight grey curls. Though he didn't recall seeing her around town, Remus was certain they'd met before, somewhere.

"May I help you, ma'am?"

"I'm hoping I can help you, sonny." The old lady screwed up her face and suddenly changed into the buxom barmaid they'd met the night before.

"Miss Belle," Remus began, but Snape was one step ahead of him.

"Nymphadora Tonks," he breathed.

Belle blushed. "Wotcher, Snape," she greeted him, a bit sheepishly. Screwing up her face once more, the metamorphmagus transformed before their eyes into the spiky-haired young witch Remus remembered from their days in the Order of the Phoenix. "It all came back to me, this morning," she explained. "All of a sudden I remembered, well, everything. My old life, my career... My friends," she added shyly, holding out a hand. "Remus, can you ever forgive me?"

"Of course." Ignoring her outstretched hand, Remus pulled her into a hug.

After a moment, she broke away and turned to Snape. He folded his arms and regarded her with his old familiar scowl. Tonks looked hurt for a second, but recovered quickly. "Well, if we're going to save Potterville from the Malfoys in less than twenty-four hours, we need to get going," she said briskly. "What's our next move?"

"That's obvious," Snape said. "We need to know exactly when Lucius Malfoy plans to launch his attack. With your disguise capabilities and auror training, you and Lupin should have no difficulty infiltrating his organization and obtaining that information. Or do you prefer to simply dawdle about until the town has been laid to waste?" he said waspishly when Remus and Tonks stood gaping at him.

Remus recovered first. "Come on, Tonks, we've been dismissed."

"I don't need a brick wall to fall on my head to know when my company's not wanted," Tonks agreed. She flounced out with Remus right behind her.

——————

Soon the reunited friends were hidden behind an outcrop of rocks, looking down on Lucius Malfoy's recruiting station. A long line of murderous desperadoes was waiting to be interviewed. Malfoy senior sat at a small folding card table, flanked by Draco and Lyle. As Remus and Tonks watched, a filthy, vicious-looking cowboy stepped up to the front of the line.

"Qualifications?" asked Lucius.

"Rape, murder, arson, and rape," said the cowpoke.

Lucius frowned. "You said rape twice."

"I like rape."

"You're hired!"

The next applicant's stubbled jaw worked up and down as he approached the table. Lucius gestured to Draco, who stepped forward, holding out his hand. "Go on, cough it up," Draco demanded.

The criminal reluctantly obeyed, spitting a sticky pink mass into Draco's upturned palm. "Look at that, Paw."

"Bubblegum," Lucius sneered. "Well, I certainly hope you brought enough for everyone, hmm?"

The gum-chewer shuffled his feet guiltily. "I didn't know there was a-gonna be so many," he muttered.

Lucius gestured again and Draco drew his gun and shot the man dead.

"Darn, he's _strict_!" Tonks whispered. "Even Snape never did more than give detention for chewing gum."

"We have to get closer and find out the plan of attack," Remus whispered back.

Tonks wrinkled her nose and morphed into Belle the buxom barmaid. Before he could protest, she stood up and waved cheerily at the queue of desperadoes. "Yoo-hoo, boys! Wanna show a girl a good time?"

A robed Death Eater at the back nudged his companion. Belle hiked her skirt up a little higher and smiled seductively. They scrambled up the rocks. "_Stupefy!_" A short time later, dressed in the Death Eaters robes and masks, Tonks and Remus joined the line.

"Qualifications?" Malfoy asked them when they reached the front.

"Stampeding cattle," Remus improvised. Beside him, Tonks nodded.

"That isn't much of a crime."

"Through the Vatican?" asked Tonks.

Malfoy smiled. "Kinky," he said approvingly. "Sign here. We will attack Potterville at midnight tomorrow," he told them. "Here are your official badges."

"Badges?" Tonks sneered, "we don't need no stinkin' badges!" Before Malfoy could react, she disapparated. Remus hastily followed suit.


	8. The Best Laid Plans

Disclaimer: All of the funny lines are from Blazing Saddles.

**Chapter 8, The Best Laid Plans:** _In which Tonks performs her own version of the toll-booth scene and Hermione does the classic swish and flick._

Tonks apparated back to the sheriff's office, where she narrowly avoided falling headlong into the massive cauldron Snape had set up in the center of the floor. Snape caught her in his arms.

Remus chose that moment to appear with a loud pop. Tonks and Snape jumped apart, both looking extremely guilty, in Remus' opinion.

"The wolfsbane potion will be ready by tomorrow morning," Snape said in his usual cold, sneering tones.

"That's great, thank you, Snape. Now we just need to free the convicts—"

"We can help with that," Hermione interrupted from the doorway. The crowd of House Elves around her knees nodded enthusiastically.

"I'll take all the help I can get," Remus smiled at them. "Perhaps Tonks could stay here and assist with the potion," he suggested. He suspectd that The Honeydukes Kid and Belle would be able to patch things up and resume their romance, if given a little privacy.

"Help _him_? I don't think so," Tonks blurted just as the Potions Master snapped,

"_Tonks_? This is a delicate potion, Lupin, do you want to see it utterly ruined?"

"Forget I mentioned it," Remus said. "In that case, Tonks, would you please spread the word? I want you to invite everyone in Potterville to a town meeting first thing tomorrow morning."

"Gladly, Remus. You're a true gentleman, unlike some people I know!" Tonks stormed out of the office. Snape huffed and returned to stirring the wolfsbane with a scowl darkening his features.

"I guess I was wrong about those two," Remus muttered once he and Hermione were on their way back to the railroad camp. "They obviously loathe one another."

"Oh, Professor Lupin, you know your Defense Against the Dark Arts, I'll give you that," Hermione said, "but when it comes to matters of the heart, you haven't got a clue!"

"That's your area of expertise, Miss Granger."

——————

The first light of dawn found the entire village packed into the church for the town meeting. The Reverend Percy Weasley gave Remus a sour look as he relinquished his pulpit. "Just remember, werewolf, this is a house of worship. No howling, or, or... other shenanigans," he warned.

"I'll try to control myself," Remus said wryly. He took a deep breath to compose himself and addressed the crowd. "Lucius Malfoy's army of evildoers will attack Potterville tonight at midnight," he announced.

The citizens cried out in dismay. "Well, we aren't going to be here to get slaughtered," Bill shouted.

"You're right," Remus said, raising his voice to be heard over the uproar. "Because they won't even reach the _real _town of Potterville. We're going to build a decoy, a perfect replica of Potterville, three miles due east of here!"

"I get it!" Ginny leaped to her feet. "And when those bad guys come a-ridin' in to bust up the fake town..."

"...We blow 'em to kingdom come," Fred and George crowed. "Great idea, sheriff!"

"Now, now, wait a minute, everybody." Arthur was shaking his head. "It would be a great plan, if we had more time. There's no way we can build an exact copy of our town in just one day."

Remus watched their faces fall as this fact registered. Then he signaled to Snape to open the church doors. Hermione strode down the aisle, head held high, followed by the House Elves and the freed convicts.

"Warlocks and centaurs and hags, oh my!" squeaked Percy.

"You can do it, if you'll accept these folks' help," Remus said. "All they ask in return is a little land of their own to homestead, and to be treated with dignity and respect."

The Weasleys and their friends muttered among themselves as the rag-tag crowd of magical misfits watched anxiously. "All right," Arthur said grudgingly. "We'll give some land to the House Elves, centaurs, hags, and warlocks..." He glared at Remus. "But we don't want the werewolves!"

The little church seemed to erupt as both sides shouted. "You'll take all of us together, or none of us at all," shrieked Hermione.

"Never!" cried Molly Weasley.

Dean Thomas stood silent, lost in thought. Suddenly he shouldered his way through the crowd to the Weasley matriarch. She recoiled from the young werewolf with a look of horror, but he spoke gently. "I'm so sorry about your loss, ma'am. Ron was a good friend of mine, back at Hogwarts."

"He's remembered," Remus whispered. "He's finally remembered!" Looking around, he could see the same realization dawning on the faces of Ron's family.

"I don't know why I lived through the werewolf attacks, and Ron didn't," Dean went on. Around him, the church fell quiet. "I do know, ma'am, that if Ron had survived the bite and become a werewolf like me, he'd want pretty much the same things we all want... To be reunited with his family, and to just live in peace."

Molly and Arthur's eyes were filled with tears. "I think it's time to forgive and forget," Arthur murmured.

"Not forget," Molly said. "Never forget... But it is time to move on." She grabbed Dean and hugged him fiercely. "Oh, you poor boy! Of course you can stay."

"You can all stay," Arthur cried.

"Well, I think it's a bad idea—" Percy began.

"Stow it, Perce," said Fred, as George stuffed a Canary Cream into his mouth.

"_Tweet,_" said Percy.

Everyone else cheered.

——————

"Come on, Professor, the wolfsbane potion's finally ready," Ginny called out. She handed Remus an old cowboy boot. It was the portkey they'd set up between the building site for the decoy town and the real town of Potterville three miles away.

Remus took hold of the portkey and moments later joined the line of werewolves on the wooden sidewalk outside the sheriff's office. Peering over the other's shoulders, he saw that Hermione was passing out cups of the wolfsbane potion as Snape ladled it from the cauldron. Remus smiled to himself, thinking how well things were going so far. Rapid progress was being made on the duplicate of Potterville, and even better, everyone was working together as a team. Remus was optimistic that they'd be able to pull off his latest plan without his active leadership. Once the sun went down, he would transform into a wolf and be unable to communicate. At least I won't pose a danger to anyone, he thought.

"Come on, lads, drinks are on the house." Fred and George Weasley were calling the lycanthropes over to the saloon to wash down the foul-tasting wolfsbane potion before heading back to work.

Remus realized that he was the last one to be served. He stepped inside the office, only to find Snape in the act of cleaning out the cauldron with a _scourgify_ spell. "Snape! I haven't taken the potion yet," Remus shouted, already knowing with a sinking feeling that he was too late.

"I didn't prepare a dose for you, Lupin. I never had any intention of doing so."

Remus and Hermione both gaped at the Potions Master.

"You thought you had a foolproof plan, didn't you?" he sneered. "I expected better of you, Lupin. Did you learn nothing from your time in the Order of the Phoenix? With even the best-laid plans, something always goes horribly wrong at the last minute. You know that. These people will never be able to defeat Malfoy and his minions without your leadership."

"And how exactly am I supposed to lead anyone, Snape?" Remus clenched his hands in anger. "Thanks to you, I'll not only be trapped in a wolf's body tonight, I'll also have the mind of a wolf. I'll be dangerous, completely out of control!"

Hermione laid a hand on his arm. "I think Professor Snape has something else in mind," she murmured. "The homorphus charm... Am I right?"

Snape smirked. "Ten points to Gryffindor, Miss Granger. You are correct. Lupin needs to remain in human form tonight."

"But that's an incredibly complex spell!"

"Correct again, Miss Granger." Snape's smirk broadened into a smile—the same smile, Remus remembered, that used to cause the average Hogwarts student to lose bladder control. "The homorphus charm is fiendishly difficult," Snape told Hermione, "which is why you shall be the one to cast it."

——————

Lucius Malfoy stood on a giant boulder, looking down on the army he'd assembled. They didn't look like much at first glance, he thought, but never mind. Evil couldn't always be pretty. Lucius ran a hand through his platinum-blond hair and waved his wand, casting the _sonorous_ charm so his voice echoed loudly across the desert. "The time is at hand, my minions," he cried, "for you to ride forth and lay waste to Potterville. Remember, you will only be risking your lives... Whilst I shall be risking my title as ten-time winner of _Witch Weekly_'s annual Sexiest Villain contest."

Shouts of "You're the man," and "Work it, baby," came from the crowd of desperadoes.

He basked in their adulation for a moment, then got back to business. "Raise your right hands and repeat after me..." The cutthroats dutifully raised their hands. Lucius rolled his eyes. "Your _other_ right, Draco."

"Sorry, Paw."

"I," Lucius declaimed,

"I," the bad guys repeated, hands in the air.

"Your name,"

"Your name," they all chorused.

Lucius rolled his eyes again. Schmucks, he thought to himself. Aloud, he continued, "Do pledge allegiance to Lucius Malfoy,"

"Do pledge allegiance to Lucy Malfoy,"

"That's _Lucius,_ dammit!"

The men repeated every word obediently: "That's Lucius, dammit!"

Lucius sighed. "And to the evil for which he stands," he concluded.

"And to the evil for which he stands!" the makeshift army roared.

Overcome with emotion, the senior Malfoy launched a Dark Mark into the cloudless blue sky. "Now go do that voodoo that you do!" he screamed.

——————

"It's finished," Remus announced from the top of a bluff overlooking the fake town. He beamed with pride. They'd all pulled together and really done it. "It's a perfect replica of Potterville." Everyone cheered.

"There's just one problem," said Bill, looking down at the town.

"What?" asked Fred.

"It's perfect, right down to the hitching post in front of our saloon," George argued.

"People," Remus groaned. "We forgot the people!"

"It looks like a ghost town," Bill agreed. "Malfoy's gang is sure to notice. This ruins everything."

"No it doesn't," Remus reassured them all. "We're way ahead of schedule. We just have to create perfect replicas of the townsfolk before midnight."

"Hoo-ah!" came a shout from the distance. Moments later Mundungus Fletcher came riding up on a vintage Oakshaft '72 broomstick. The old prospector had been on guard duty. "Conflabbit, the Dark Mark has been launched. An' I just saw an army of sidewinders an' hornswagglers meetin' up out at the ol' Botts farm," he shouted, jumping off his broom.

"Apparently Malfoy has moved the timing of the attack up to sunset, rather than midnight," said Snape. "I told you, Lupin, the best-laid plans..."

"We need a delaying tactic," Remus said, "and fast."

Hermione grinned. "I know just the thing, if Tonks is willing to try it?" She leaned over and whispered in the spiky-haired witch's ear.

Tonks burst out laughing. "I'll do it!"

——————

The army of black-hatted thugs thundered across the desert in a cloud of dust. Draco squinted ahead. "What in tarnation is that?" he yelled as a green and silver striped cabana came into view.

Inside the tent, Remus filled the tub he'd just conjured with gallons of frothy pink bubbles. "Your bath awaits, Miss Tonks... or should I say, Mr. Malfoy?"

Tonks scrunched up her face in concentration. Within seconds, she'd transformed into Lucius Malfoy's identical twin, right down to the haughty expression and gleaming blond hair. "You'd better get on back to town, Remus. The sun will be setting soon."

Remus nodded, looking nervous now that he'd been reminded of the inevitable approach of the full moon. Would Hermione be able to cast the homorphus charm? He managed a smile and a wave at Tonks, then disapparated with a loud pop.

Tonks, now disguised as Malfoy, rolled her eyes. "I thought he'd never leave," she muttered as she pulled off her clothes. "I don't want anyone to see me naked, not in Lucius Malfoy's body... eew!" With a splash, the metamorphmagus hopped into the tub and buried herself up to the neck in the suds.

——————

"Just try to relax, Remus," Hermione said, "Just another few minutes until moon rise."

Snape and Remus exchanged a look. Hermione's face was pale as she paced back and forth across the sheriff's office. "I think both of us need to relax," Remus told her with a smile.

"But if I fail to cast the charm correctly and you transform, you could be left as a wolf, permanently!"

"You won't fail, Hermione," Remus said with confidence. I really hope you don't fail, he thought to himself.

Snape just flexed his fingers as he stood waiting for the moon to rise. His gun belt was buckled around his waist. "Never fear, Lupin," he said softly. "If you do transform into a wolf, I promise you that your suffering will be brief and your death, quick and humane."

"Thank you," Remus said dryly. A moment later, he winced and doubled over in pain. "The transformation is starting," he gasped.

Hermione performed a complicated, swishy gesture ending with a flick of her wand. "_Homorphus!_" she cried.

There was a brief, agonizing surge of pain as the magic surrounded him. Then Remus stood upright again, staring down at himself in wonder and delight. He was still human! He grabbed Hermione in a quick hug.

"Don't waste time, Lupin, you've got an army to defeat... Or have you forgetten?" Snape's sneer was very convincing, but he couldn't quite hide a smile.

"Let's go whomp some bad guys," Remus said with a grin. He held out an arm to Hermione. "Ladies first."

There were three loud pops, and the sheriff's office stood deserted under the rising moon.

——————

The army of evil galloped up to the cabana and reined in. "Hold up, boys, I'm a-gonna see what's goin' on here," Draco ordered. He gestured to Lyle and the two cautiously entered the green and silver striped tent.

Tonks, disguised as Lucius Malfoy, greeted them haughtily from the bathtub. "There you are, Draco, finally! What took you so long?"

"Paw?" Draco scratched his head, puzzled. "What you doin' way out here in th' middle o' nowhere, Paw?"

"I wanted to freshen up a bit before witnessing the glorious defeat of my enemies," Tonks replied.

"Whatever you want, Paw."

"Precisely," shouted Tonks, "and what I want right now is my snakey! Go get my snakey, Draco!"

"But Paw, you said we was a-gonna attack Potterville at sundown," Draco whined.

Tonks beat her fists against the water, splashing pink bubbles all over the younger Malfoy and his sidekick. "Daddy wants snakey! Daddy wants snakey," she bellowed.

"All right, all right, don't go gettin' your longjohns in a knot," Draco said hastily. He and Lyle backed out of the tent. Draco pulled out his six-shooter and pistol whipped Lyle just to make himself feel better. "Gol-darnit, we cain't attack th' town until we go back and get Paw's snakey. Well, don't just sit there," he snarled at the desperadoes. "Paw wants his snakey! Let's ride."

Laughing hysterically, Tonks watched them ride away. Then she wrinkled up her nose and morphed back into her own natural form.


	9. The French Mistake

Disclaimer: All of the funny lines are from _Blazing Saddles_. Song lines are from Buddy Bizarre's musical from the movie _Blazing Saddles_.

**Chapter 9, The French Mistake: **_In which the forces of good and pure and right triumph over evil, and evil gets a taste of the bizarre... Buddy Bizarre, that is, as played by Dolores Umbridge._

The citizens of Potterville and their allies gathered on the hilltop above the duplicate of their town, waiting and watching with anxious eyes. Below, the warm, cheery glow of lamplight showed from the windows of the empty shells of the replica buildings. Music could be heard from inside Fred and George Weasley's saloon. The fake town was perfect in every detail. Remus walked among the defenders, offering a quiet word of reassurance or encouragement wherever it seemed needed. Mongo followed loyally at his heels. He paused next to Severus Snape. "Amazing, isn't it?" he asked, gesturing to the unlikely group of allies half-hidden among the rocks. Only a few feet away, Ginny Weasley stood next to Dean Thomas, idly scratching between the werewolf's ears as they waited for the attack to be launched. "Two days ago, they were enemies, and now, they're fighting for a chance for a new life."

"If I am correct, Lupin, we shall all be fighting for a great deal more than a few acres of praire land to homestead."

"What do you mean?"

In the moonlight, Snape's fathomless eyes were as inscrutable as ever. "Be prepared for anything," he said.

Suddenly, a green glow lit up the sky above the decoy town. The skull and snake blazed in the air. "It's started," Remus called softly. "Stay calm, everyone. Fred, George, you know what to do."

——————

Draco led his army through the streets, whooping and hollering, shooting out windows and blowing up signboards and outhouses with the reductor curse. An enthusiastic _incendio _spell set the village church on fire. Caught up in the joy of destruction, the desperadoes were slow to realize that their antics weren't getting much notice from the citizens. Instead of screams of terror and cries for help, the streets were silent except for the player piano in the saloon, which continued to tinkle out a jaunty burlesque tune.

The music stopped abruptly as two of the thugs burst through the swinging doors and shot the piano player in the head. The body slumped sideways, looking more like a pile of junk than a human corpse. Intent on the two females lounging at the bar, the rustlers didn't give the murder victim a second glance.

"Hey, baby, lookin' for a good time?"

Mimi von Karkaroff smiled a painted-on smile at the rustler. She didn't say no.

"How's about a little..." the second whispered into the buxom barmaid's ear.

Belle likewise said not a word in protest as the thug pulled her roughly into his arms.

Outside in the street, Lyle caught sight of Arabella Figg. With a shout, he fell upon the old woman, beating the stuffing out of her... Literally. Straw began to fly. "Boss! Hey, boss, these people is all dummies!"

"O' course they are," Draco drawled. "How do you think Governor Umbridge got elected?"

"No, boss, I mean, they're real dummies. Look!"

Draco looked in the direction Lyle was pointing. "Why, it's that low-down, yellow-bellied sheriff!" Remus Lupin smiled and waved, his tin star glinting in the moonlight. "Reach for it, werewolf!" Draco aimed his six-shooter and fired.

Caught up in the excitement, Lyle jumped up and down, cheering. "You shot that varmint's head clean off, boss!"

The headless figure continued to wave genially. Draco stormed over and yanked its arm off in a rage. "It's a dummy, you dummy!"

"Ow!" Lyle cowered as Draco beat him over the head with the fake Remus' wooden arm. "Told ya so," he muttered sullenly.

The army regrouped as word spread. "The town's empty!"

"We been hornswaggled! It's a trick!"

One of the bandits stuck his head into the saloon where the two amorous cattle rustlers had thrown Belle and Mimi onto the bar and were ravishing them enthusiastically. "They're nothin' but a couple o' dummies," he informed them.

"That's all right, we ain't exactly lookin' for intelligent conversation," laughed the first.

"Yeah, we like to date th' stupid ones. They're th' only ones that'll even let us get t' first base," agreed the second.

"No, you fools, look at 'em. They're not even alive!"

"Well, shoot," complained the first, hastily pulling up his pants. "An here I was, thinkin' they was just typical purebloods."

——————

Up on the hill, the defenders of Potterville watched anxiously, fingers in their ears, as Fred and George both cast _incendio _on the fuse that was to set off an explosive blast of Weasley's Wildfire Whiz-bangs. Nothing happened.

"The fuse is a dud," Fred cried.

"Didn't we buy that last batch of fuses from old Igor Karkaroff, the snake-oil salesman?" asked George, giving Hermione a dirty look.

"Never mind that now," Hermione said briskly. "Even Draco is bound to notice the dummies soon. Once he does, he'll call a retreat. They'll get away!"

It was true. Already the bad guys' whoops of glee had turned to shouts of confusion and dismay. Remus thought quickly. "Can you shoot the explosives from here?" he asked Snape.

The Honeydukes Kid flexed his fingers. "I can try."

Everyone held their breath as he took aim at the town far below. Moments later a massive blast proved that his shot had been successful. Red, white, and blue fireworks filled the sky, their brightness obscuring the green glow of the Dark Mark. Below in the decoy town, buildings began to fall.

For just a moment, the ground trembled, as though the blast had somehow set off a small earthquake. The moonlit desert landscape around them shimmered like a heat mirage. Everyone staggered and Molly Weasley screamed. Then it was over as suddenly as it had begun.

Remus regained his footing. Remembering Snape's warning to be ready for anything, he gave the gunslinger a sharp look. "What just happened?"

Snape was staring down at the town. "It wasn't enough," he muttered to himself.

"Tell me what's going on."

"No time to explain," Snape said. "We've got to work together... Defeat the army completely."

"You heard him," Remus shouted. "Let's get down there and drive those desperadoes off our land!"

A rapid series of pops followed as witches and wizards took the fastest route to the decoy town. Those who couldn't disapparate began to run down the hill. Soon the battle was joined. Centaurs stampeded down main street. The werewolves howled, terrorizing the desperadoes as they ran among them, snarling and snapping, but careful not to actually bite anyone.

Remus and Snape found themselves fighting back to back, wands drawn. A hail of hexes and counter-hexes blasted all around them, lighting up the night with flashes of red and blue.

Suddenly, Draco Malfoy appeared out of the chaos. He dropped his gun to the ground. "Professor Snape," he cried, "I surrender. Please don't shoot!"

As Snape hesitated, Remus caught sight of the wand in the former Slytherin prefect's hand. _"Avada kedav—_"

"_Expelliarmus_," Remus shouted, just as Snape cast his own disarming spell.

Draco and Remus were both flung into the air, their wands torn from their fingers. Remus slammed into the wall of the saloon and slid to the ground. Dazed and hurt, he shook his head to clear it. Had Snape turned traitor?

"Sorry about that, Lupin."

He blinked. Severus Snape was holding out his wand to him. Lucius and Draco Malfoy were both lying in the dust in the middle of the street. Two loud bangs sounded as Tonks and Hermione cast simultaneously, sending magical ropes out of their wands to bind the two villains.

"You saved my life, Snape."

"And you saved mine." Snape clasped Remus' hand and pulled him to his feet. The earth began to shake again, the remaining buildings of the fake Potterville toppling and tumbling to the ground. All around them, defenders and bad guys alike were falling to their knees, unable to maintain their balance as the earthquake, or whatever it was, grew stronger.

Snape sidestepped nimbly and caught Tonks as she stumbled backwards. The world was shifting, swirling like thoughts in a pensieve. Faster and faster it spun, the desert landscape blurring.

Remus felt a sharp tugging sensation behind his navel, as though he'd taken hold of a gigantic portkey. He stifled a scream as he was yanked violently through time and space...

——————

"Wotcher, Harry?"

"Hermione, good t' see yeh,"

"Why Remus Lupin, and in human form, tonight of all nights! How are you, dear?"

Madam Pomfrey was standing there in her nurse's uniform, complete with cape, starched white cap and apron, smiling at him, waiting for his reply.

"I... I'm fine, I suppose. How did I—"

He blinked at the activity around him. Hagrid was wiping his eyes with a tablecloth-sized handkerchief as Harry Potter and Hermione hugged one another. Tonks was deep in conversation with Kingsley Shacklebolt. All around him, the homesteaders of the New West were being reunited with their friends who had remained behind in Great Britain. Beyond, looking eerie in the light of the full moon, the great standing stones of Stonehenge loomed.

"We're back in our own world!" Remus made his way over to Severus Snape, who was standing alone, a bit removed from the hubbub. "You knew this was going to happen," he accused.

"I suspected, Lupin." Snape's black eyes glimmered. "The New West was an unstable dimension. Its continued existence depended upon the credulity of its inhabitants."

"He means the settlers' continuing belief that they were really residents of the American frontier of the late eighteen-hundreds," Harrry Potter chimed in.

"Harry!" Remus hugged his old friend, delighted to find him healthy and well. Snape greeted his former student with a curt nod.

"How did you do it, Professor Snape? We've been trying to think of a way to free you, but all attempts to access the alternate dimension failed..."

"I realized that Lupin was the key," said Snape. "He had the ability to make others remember—"

"It was all of us, working together," Remus insisted. "The dimension dissolved when we saved one anothers' lives."

Snape nodded, looking thoughtful.

There's just one thing I don't understand," Remus said to Harry once the excitement of the homecoming had died down and they'd returned to the old Order headquarters at Grimmauld Place. "What happened to the villains? I didn't see any of them, back at Stonehenge. Why didn't they return to Great Britain with the rest of us?"

Harry smiled. "Funny thing about alternate dimensions..."

——————

Draco Malfoy sighed heavily and made a last-minute adjustment to his cummerbund. "Is my bowtie straight?"

"Let me fix it for you, darling."

The dancer in line in front of him blew him a kiss as "Quiet on the set!" echoed across the sound stage.

The orchestra struck up a lively tune. Draco sighed again as he took his place at the top of the towering double staircase and began to tapdance down the steps with the rest of the men in tophats and tails.

"Throw out your hands, stick out your tush,

Hands on your hips, give 'em a push,

You'll be surprised, you're doing the French Mistake."

"Voilá!" Draco sang with gusto until Dolohov tripped him. He stumbled down the last few stairs, ending up in the center of the dance floor. Dolohov and Macnair exchanged a high five behind the director's back.

"No, no, no! Cut! Cut," shrieked Dolores Umbridge, waving her director's megaphone in Draco's face. "Wrong, wrong, this is how you do it. Cue the music." Umbridge started to demonstrate the dance steps, but stopped abruptly as the Lestrange Brothers dissolved in a fit of giggles. "Have you got it?" she asked Draco peevishly.

"Yes, ma'am." Draco's voice was sullen.

"Take five, girls," Umbridge shouted.

From a make-up table just off stage, Lucius beckoned to his son. "Draco, Draco," he tutted, "you must learn to take direction. Do you want to remain in the chorus line forever? A bit more powder, I want to look good for my big solo," he told the make-up artist.

"_Duet_, darling," Narcissa reminded her husband from the next chair. "I do so love to tango!" She frowned at Draco. "Son, what's wrong? Aren't you happy here in Hollywood?"

"I'm sorry, Mother. It's just that..."

"Tell me, darling."

"Sometimes, I get the urge to wear chaps," Draco confided, blushing, "and a cowboy hat and boots and a bolo tie!"

"Splendid, splendid!" Lucius enthused. He smoothed his platinum blond locks. "We could work up a new act...You be a cowboy, and I shall be an Indian chief."

"And I shall dress up as a motorcycle cop, and your Auntie Bellatrix as... A construction worker," Narcissa enthused. "We'll be a sensation!"

"Great," Draco muttered sarcastically.

"Quiet on the set," Umbridge shouted through her megaphone. "Places, everyone... Take fifty-six!"

——————

Severus Snape slipped into a quiet corner and muttered a concealment charm. The Ministry reception was crowded with every dignitary in the wizarding world, it seemed. Absently, he buffed an imaginary speck of dust off the gleaming gold medal pinned to his black dress robes. He had to admit, it had been a thrill to finally receive the Order of Merlin for his work during the war... and a relief to have his name cleared. But the endless ceremony and the party afterward had started to give him a headache, and his hand actually throbbed from so many well-wishers shaking it.

Snape glanced across the room to where Lupin was surrounded by a gaggle of admirers, including the famous Harry Potter. He wouldn't be missed if he left early. No one would even notice his absence. With a pop, he disapparated.

Diagon Alley was quiet and nearly deserted, a welcome relief after the crowded and stuffy hall. Snape strolled down the street, not entirely certain where he would go next. No deadly spying missions... No students to teach... No gunfights, either, Snape thought dryly. This new life would take some getting used to.

He noticed a lone figure sitting at a table outside Florean Fortescue's ice cream parlor, and hid a smile. So he wasn't the only one who had skived off the tedious reception. The smile turned to a frown; if he continued on his present course, he would pass right by her. Snape considered ducking into a nearby alley, then shrugged and kept walking.

"Where you headed, cowboy?" she smiled up at him.

"Nowhere special," he said diffidently.

"Nowhere special... I always wanted to go there."

Snape bowed and held out his arm. Tonks stood and took his hand. The setting sun silhouetted them as they walked away.

——————

Author's notes: Many thanks to redlady27, Silverthreads, excessivelyperky, Anony, duj, Kaori7395, and Kyer for reviewing the work in progress. Your comments and suggestions were greatly appreciated.


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